Blue skies, every kind of gorgeous cloud imaginable, breezes, green everywhere. The roadways are lined with wildflowers. Honeysuckle on the vine, day lilies, and so many others whose names I've somehow failed to learn. Or have forgotten. Delicate blue blossoms, pink, yellow, soft white. Every color imaginable.
Hawks circle in the skies.
The day is also achingly hot.
But this did not bother me at all as I drove through the countryside today. I had the windows open and music playing. I did not have anything scheduled for most of the day. I figured I'd do some tasks around the house. But those were very easy to sacrifice to being out and about .
I was tempted to drive an hour to the coast and walk by the ocean.
But something in me wanted to stay close to home.
As I sit here writing late at night, my thoughts are interrupted by the desire to close my eyes and sink back into the day. Something I noticed about myself today in all that beauty was the instinct to be deeply present. To notice everything. To connect with the natural world with all my senses.
It's important to be out in nature. We spend so much of our lives indoors, especially on achingly hot days. We spend so much of our lives connected to technology. Plugged in. It feels good to unplug, to connect to something other than the Internet. To fill our brains with the stimulation offered by the gifts of Earth on an achingly beautiful summer day. To allow something creative to counter the destructive impulses we observe day in and day out as we tune in to news and commentary and outrage and relentless electronic stimulation.
I carried my desire for beauty and ease into dinner this evening. A simple salad with a simple olive oil and lemon dressing, some wild-caught salmon simply prepared punctuated the day and leaves me filled with a peace I will carry into sleep.
I expect a long day at work tomorrow. And I'm grateful for having been able to sink into wildness today.
The Summer of Self-Love is a daily writing practice birthed June 1, 2018 as a container for harnessing three months for thriving. The goal at the end is to host a dinner party. Sounds like an odd Hero's Journey, doesn't it. Most of them usually are.