Another night laying in the hammock on the porch. It is easier for me to breath out here than in the closed house. I miss sleeping in the woods in my tent. This is a good compromise. Enjoy the warm nights while they last. Half asleep, warm cocoon, listening to the creek, and night critters quietly scurrying on the forest floor. A gentle breeze wafts through, tickling exposed skin. This warm pleasing zephyr tantalizes my imagination, reminds me of many other warm nights in the woods. There is something ephemeral in a warm night breeze, dreamlike, surreal, the edge of sleeping and waking, where anything is possible.
I think one of the best ways to recuperate from an illness is to sleep in a sun warmed hammock in the lazy afternoon. I was supposed to working on the River yesterday and tomorrow, but bronchitis had other ideas. So instead I am lazily gazing up at a bright cerulean sky, small fluffy white clouds floating merrily by, with golden sunlight bathing me its healing heat. Eyes closed just experiencing the glorious day, just being. Eyes open, drowsy and content, sleepily watching clouds, trees, leaves, birds, insects drift through my line of sight. Rocking ever so gently, really barley moving, in the warm breeze caressing my skin. Half asleep in the hammock and enjoying every minute!
It feels like summer, sunny and warm, still trying to get well, dozing in the hammock on this fine and glorious afternoon. Watching the trees on the hill above the house branches full of tired leaves turning yellow and brown wave gently against a clear bright blue summer sky. Brown leaves rain down, floating aloft on the breezes, spinning, drifting, sputtering to the ground. A gust of warm air rushes the leaves along the road, they rustle loudly and scuffle against each other as the brush down the road surface, scarping and bristling in the stiff breeze. I am immersed by the feel of the warm air and warm sun on my skin and surrounded by the sound of crisp brown leaves rustling on the trees, blowing in the air, tumbling through the grass, and scraping along the road. Fall and Summer all rolled into one lazy hammock day.
If I could , I would follow summer around the globe, back and forth across the hemispheres. But for now, I am here in the mountains of up state NY, where seasons change. This makes summer even more precious because it is a fleeting phenomena, something to be cherished while it lasts and remembered warmly when cold winter sleet blows against the window panes. It has been a cool and wet summer this year, but now finally what I call Endless Summer is upon us. This is a space of time when the evenings are long and warm, true darkness takes a long time to cover the sky. Then true darkness is vanquished when the big silver summer moon rises chasing shadows into the short summer nights. The breeze that blows after the sun sets is warm, it whispers sweet nothings in your ears, and makes your skin tingle with the magic that only a warm summer night can hold. I call this time endless simply because I do not want it to end. These are the soft summer nights when you can drive around with the windows down, your arm riding the wind current, and not get a chill. These are the soft summer nights that entice you to go night swimming, the water a liquid velvet bath, the air a warm caress to dry you off. There is no freezing cold shivers on these soft endless summer nights. Endless summer is spent in the company of friends with campfires, good food, live music, silly games, stories, and laughter. Endless summer is when the warm night air mingles with the warmth of the fire and our friendships. It rises up to the stars and spreads out into infinity.
Warm breeze, tantalizing, teasing, caresses sun warmed skin. Blue sky, bright, deep baby blue with fluffy cotton clouds skittering by. Walking down a gentle sandy hill, under the new spring green leaf canopy of a mixed deciduous forest. Step out into the open, inhale deeply, smell the wetness of the nearby river, the tang of warm pine needles on the ground. Breeze gently tickling my skin, I look up and out across the clearing, the air is filled with white fluff floating along the air currents. Bobbing, dipping, drifting somewhat like, but completely different from snow. I send myself into the breeze to float and flit with the cottonwood fluff!
My husband has gone to work. I have the house to myself, so I open every window to the sunny warm spring day! I work in the yard and garden, wearing skimpy shorts and a bikini top (my typical summer attire), slathered in sunscreen, head covered with a large floppy sun hat that shades my face and neck. I am a sun worshiper through and through. Later in the afternoon, after I have mowed the lawn, I go inside to fill my water bottle and drink it, I feel a teasing, tantalizing breeze. Looking through the window I see branches with small new florescent yellow green spring leaves gently waving in the sunlight. I let my gaze drift around the house; papers rustling on the table, pollen and dust moving through a sun beam, curtain swinging in the bedroom doorway. I realize I am standing in a gentle wind tunnel, with a warm breeze traveling through the whole house. For the first time this year, all the windows are open, and a summer like breeze is cooling the sweat on my skin, and ruffling the fur of a cat sleeping on the window sill. I am in love.