To Everything There is a Season
Tick, tick, tick... time marches on, and now it is August.
I love the sound of that word, it brings to mind images of heat rising from dry ground, feeling warm to my bones, the desire to rest, to watch bees buzzing about the lavender...
It is a time that whispers "go slow" but deceivingly, because August is really a time of great tumult and change. It happens just below the surface of our perceptions, but happen it does.
August is tricksy that way.
In nature, and specifically in my garden, where I look to find the truest truths in life, things have matured. Growth has slowed, sometimes to a stop; which means the dying process has begun.
The rains have ceased, the residual moisture has been used, things that plump have plumped and it's time to pick and eat and preserve.
In our lives other things are happening, mostly with our children.
Very few schools wait until September to being their new years. If you have school aged kids, you are in the heat of the moment making back-to-school plans. There is shopping, shopping, shopping to be done and all those last-minute-before-summer-is-over things to do!
If you have older, college, or post-college aged kids, this is the time they are moving into dorms, or apartments, or starting those new jobs. Maybe in a city that is not where you live...
Are they ready? Are YOU ready?
I've heard that 80% of college-aged kids don't have basic cooking skills. They don't know how to do their own laundry. Don't know a thing about auto maintenance... Now they must figure it out.
They must "adult," and we must let them. (So, so, hard sometimes!)
So much hoopla is made over New Year's... but for me, August is the true month of endings, new beginnings, and transition. Do you feel this too?
To everything there is a season...
August makes me nostalgic. So much eager, eager, anticipation for summer to arrive, and now it is ending. The kids will go back to school, families will settle into routines, the days will shorten and cool.
And here I'll be each evening, on the airwaves keeping you company, and I am thankful for you.