It’s August now, we are well into summer in the northern hemisphere. Our kitchens are beginning to fill with of all the beautiful things we’ve been growing this year. The forests are teeming with life, the vibrant colours reminding us of vitality; the blue of the sky, the redness of ripening berries, the striking green of the trees at their yearly peak. We gather flowers from our home gardens, binding them together with string and hand them to friends. We prepare simple food and feast on the freshness, we can and dehydrate and freeze the rest, tucking it away for later on.
The sun is setting earlier, but late enough still that we find ourselves awake later than usual, often outside. We tend to our land, to each other. We are often outside, deeply immersed in our connection to nature, so much pleasure and joy. We restore and fortify ourselves with the exquisite overflow; this is August, the beginning of the harvest. For now, in the warmth of the sun, there is ease.
In the coming days, our pace will change. As the daylight shortens and the slant of light shifts so will our attention. And while we can’t remain in, as one of my friends calls it, the “driftiness” of summer all year long, we can anchor ourselves in the renewal that its abundance brings us. The freedom and wildness as deep and ancient as anything we know. Through every sip and bite of something born of the land, we become stronger, honouring the connection to our bodies and our Mother Earth.
As the wheel turns, we tend, to ourselves and everything else living. Can you feel it?