With the holidays behind us, we can quickly grow weary of the frigid days of winter. I try to be optimistic, but often find myself lacking vitality, and the will to move too far from the space heater.
I am all for the peace of a snowfall with its present moment awareness but for goodness sakes, I need something to look forward to. Something to keep me going as I defrost the van for school drop-offs. A vision to keep me awake when it is so terribly dark at 6 p.m.
I need the hope of summer.
I need to recall the bright kindness of summers past: Images of Michigan blue skies and Emma’s blueberry muffins; hands holding hot coffee and feet in the hot sand; the simple miracle of my children playing in the lake at 9:55 p.m.
I get energized by future summer. I see picnics, paddleboards, and parties with friends. My imagination takes over as I secretly declare that I will kayak for hours and I will bike for a day. I will write a novel on the porch and read the classics in a beach chair. No matter the outcome, the feeling is enough. It feels good to live in possibility.
If you live here, you know that summer makes wonders possible.