Summer Days


It’s the first day of summer and it’s going to be a warm one. The forecast for the rest of the month is hot. Kamloops summer hot, peaking at 39C / 102F later this week. I love it—and I’m exceedingly grateful for air conditioning.

Gardening will happen in the morning while it’s still cool enough. Afternoons—well, what better way to spend a hot summer afternoon than on the deck with a with a cup of cold tea and a good book, or in the back yard tapping out words on my MacBook.

This is what I waited for during the long,  cold, dark and dreary months. Maybe my self will return.

I spend a lot of time thinking these days. Deep thoughts, trying to figure things out, things that are mostly un-figure-out-able.

Remember back in March 2020 when the world changed? I think back to what it was like back then, who I was, what I hoped for. Fast forward to today, when we see a glimmer of light at the end of this dark tunnel, and I think about things I let go of and things I picked up. Things I’m okay with leaving behind and others  I might want to return to. Mostly, I’m happy with leaving things behind.

I think about us as human beings, why and how we do some of the things we do and how I don’t have the first clue of how to set things right that have gone wrong.

I look at the morning sky and green growing things and see something of the Divine. I challenge myself to look hard for the same in people I encounter. It’s harder, but I think it’s my better work in this season.

I think about time passed and time passing, the present and the future, and how there’s no guarantee of tomorrow.

I remember, and try not to get caught up in melancholy, longing, and regret.

I project, and try to let that stuff go.

I think about today—what day it is, first of all, and what plans I might have on my calendar. Commitments I’ve made, how far behind I am in getting things done, and whether I can put something off for one more day.

I think about the timelessness of childhood summers and what it would take to recapture it. I wonder why every moment seems relative to how much longer it is until I have to tend to laundry or lunch or something other thing.

Should I stop drinking soy milk?

Do I need to be concerned about this thing?

Should I pay more attention to the news?

Do I have my ducks in a tidy row?

What if this happens? What if it doesn’t?

Why do I feel as if I’ve hit a wall in this area?

Am I overthinking and under feeling? Or visa versa?

There are always more questions than answers and I think that’s okay. The trick is to ask the right questions and let go of the rest. Summer seems like a good time to do this. I’m hoping so.


I’m a writer, reader, and creative. I thought by now I’d have things figured out, but I keep coming up with more questions. I think that’s okay. I’m here most mornings pondering ordinary things and the thin places where faith intersects.

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