Friday, August 24, 2012

Summer’s End, and a Milestone

Mother Nature graced us with a fairly fogless summer in San Francisco; 
a real treat for those of us who savor the sun.
I was traveling more this summer than in those past, 
and that may explain why I feel like the season came and went in a snap.
I journeyed to the quiet of the mountains and dove into shockingly icy lakes.
I conquered one of the most intimidating climbs; 
 during which, my legs felt like jell-o and my mind wasn’t so certain, 
but with the encouragement from friends we crowned ourselves Half Dome Heroes,
taking in the panorama of Yosemite from what felt like the top of the world.
I hosted my little sister’s first trip to the shining seas of the Pacific.
Having her here granted me the gift of seeing my city through fresh eyes; 
it was darn near perfect.
I met friends in Southern California, 
here we ate seafood plucked straight from the ocean at which we gazed. 
We goofed around and reverted back to behavior from our collegiate days- 
a time in our lives which feels too far away in the past to be true.
Independence day brought me back to the mountains that now have taken permanent residence in my heart. 
We boated and basked and made questionable choices
but those after all, almost always result in the most fun. 
Dance-offs were danced, love was professed, speeches were made, adventures were had. 
image is my own
And then came the celebrations! 
Two summer weddings, one on the New England coastline, 
and the other nestled in the heart of Wine Country.
 I felt so lucky to play witness to joyful, blissful love.
Another guest came west in all her glowing glory. 
We dined like queens and drank like Kings. 
Together we marveled at the beauty of Northern California’s rolling vineyards.
And now, here we are. 
It’s been a goofy final month of summer: full of peaks and pits, chaos and calm.
There are many unknowns and even more ‘unsaids,’ 
some of which are up to me, but others, to the universe.
I’m closing out the summer with a few celebrations of my own. 
 I’m turning thirty.
And while I anticipated feeling a certain way about the milestone,  
 I actually don’t feel that way at all. 
And here’s the secret:
I look back on all the things that I’ve done and all the sites that I’ve seen. 
All the places I’ve gone, and the company that I've kept.
I think of the friends and family that have traveled across the country.
 And the friends that are right here in California,
who turn ordinary days into extraordinary.
I am blessed and humbled and incredibly grateful for the summer outlined above. 
To me, it reads like a great book...and I can’t believe it’s my great life.
Thank you all,  for making it so.
Here’s to thirty!

Monday, August 20, 2012

On August...

I’ve always loved August. 
I love the soupy air and the lazy afternoon light that casts a hazy glow on mossy slate patios 
and algae speckled docks.
August is... forgiving. 
It gently lends us the excuse to move a little more slowly,
to linger a little longer after late dinners outdoors. 
August allows for a messy tangle of overgrown plants with droopy, heavy buds.
Whereas June and July bring a flurry of activity, 
August says there is nothing wrong spending an entire afternoon reading in the yard, 
with the summer symphony of buzzing insects and sprinklers in the background.
A friend said she felt August quickened her return to the fall too hastily- but I disagree. 
I think it ushers us into the new season with a calm and seamless ease,
not nearly as abrupt as the turnover into winter.
image is my own
 August is filled with trips to places I’ve been countless times before- but always hope to return again. 
My usual adventure-seeking spirit longs for the familiar by summer’s end.
 I’ll be spending the final dog days of August back on the east coast: 
no work; no worries; minimal scheduled plans.  
 It’s been a continuous string of summer weekends filled with guests, weddings, and weekend road trips- 
all of these preceded by work weeks that felt much, much too chaotic for the summer months. 
I’ve tried to mask the more recent stresses of my job as best I could--my poor parents the sole recipients of painful, anxiety laden daily accounts of the day.
I have faith that the choices I am making will help spark change soon enough. 
Until then, I am looking forward to long days and warm nights 
and falling asleep to the sound of the katydids chirping in the moonlight. 
Wishing you all lazy August days...