Moments

Sunsets and lightning strikes,
Honey-dewed bits of time.
Friends on holiday
take advantage
of summer air, lake,
and verdes--together,
like a free orchestra
for the eyes.
The wonder-seeker
on a student's budget needs
only enough to purchase berries,
baguettes and cheese
to create delight by dusk.
Pedantic conversations
well into the night
leave my soul feeling full.
Poets, political theorists,
pinners and playful children -
I get to count them all as friends.
Reluctant to bid goodbye
to sunny, adventurous days,
no pillow-time till 1 AM.
Or later still.
The mind races, weaving
memories from experiences.
These are moments.
Composed of more than minutes.
Pauses, glances round the table,
cloud watching, walks,
giggles and sighs--
if only we could bottle up
the sensation of summer
to crack open on a grey day
or frigid night.
I cannot say I have regrets.
"What is a weekend?"
But a chance to
sieze those summery days
and make the moments
belong to us.




[pc: Becca]

August means...

... Moving into my own place and starting a new season.

... Celebrating 1 year at my job.

... Finally getting to Shakespeare in the Park this Summer.

... Family Camp [aka - 5 days of Christmas!]

... Last "hurrah's" before friends and family head back to school.

... Multiple film clubs.

... Taking advantage of summer nights by the lake :)

... Celebrating family birthdays.

... An excursion to Boston to see Kristina - complete with a trip to Fenway and a day at Cape Cod!



August means splendid things.  Have a fantastic August!




[via]

Fireworks - White

Pretty much since the album came out,  Mumford & Son's "I Will Wait" has been the theme song of my season.  Parts of the late fall and winter were extremely difficult - like being caught in a tight space - and my anthem became "I will wait..." [I think I gave that away here and here and even here].  The words spoke hope to me, that someday I would "know my ground."

Well, part of that process has been the desire and the need to discover and create my own place.  I can't quite explain the feeling.  Not just a sense of "it would be great if _______ [I had my own room, more bookshelves, etc.],"  but an urge that this year I must discover who Christ is through me - and that it would require a wider space to cultivate and become.

There's been a process.  There's been a search.  Waiting has become a disposition in the last 8 months - quite a difference between a temporary hold and a distant call. I had been in that tight space, knowing there was a wide open one waiting for me, like I had been waiting for it.

Then, just before Memorial Day Weekend, word came that just that place may exsist.  In between the chorus and the bridge at Mumford Live that weekend, my good friend Cami leaned forward and said, "I think this is the closing of a chapter..."  It was true (for both of us). 


[I will wait...]

 And thus began the summer of becoming. The summer of fireworks [I do apologize for the cryptic posts... but I couldn't talk about this yet].


Now, after hearing and waiting and becoming - it's here and it's real.

This weekend, my best friend and I are moving to a lovely little space near the lake.  She's been in a similar process, and, honestly, this place is more than we could have hoped for.  It's a new beginning.  A white canvas, if you will.


[This isn't a firework (duh), it's just a sparkler... but it's white - and I took the picture :]

 

I can't wait to share more with you (yes, there will be pictures).  But I'm grateful I could finally tell you about this particularyly bold and shimmering firework.