But I have been wondering.
Where did it come from, this deep Summer happiness that often kept me awake late into the night?
After all, as much as I love growing things and picking fruit, I don't have a garden, so my own harvest is a handful of warm cherry tomatoes from the balcony, plus basil and rosemary. In August Pierre came for a wonderful visit, but I didn't get any vacation this year, nor a chance to see my family. From mid-July, in fact, I worked almost every day at the yoga centre.
Yet every night of this late Summer, when I heard the peaceful, meditative choir of the crickets, I felt rich and grateful, almost giddy with a joy resonating within the crickets' song, the starry sky, and my own heart - a wordless song that keeps words at bay.
Reading or writing were out of place, somehow. Translating? A hazardous exercise. Even the need to draw or paint eluded me, as if it was more important to be simply attuned to the generous, sensual mood of the day, so that I wherever I was, it was a part of me.
I would be swept away by the clear light filling up the bedroom balcony at any hour; I would be walking down the street, biking to work, biking home, working at the yoga centre, talking with people about practical or less practical matters, and it was there: Summer's secret joy.
Countless tasks and many activities were left in limbo. My agenda is almost blank, from June to now. I did manage to organize a few things with good friends, and it was just as lovely as these pictures suggest.
|An evening with Sachiko.|
|Mango & green melon soup. Any votes for the recipe?|
|Biking to Chambly & Saint-Jean sur Richelieu with Solenne. And back. (62 miles...)|
|Sushi picnic with Anne|
Deep down, I knew that my main mission for the season was to be, to drift into, the texture of life itself.
In every moment, one day at a time. Without any plans.
You see, it was calling me all the time, waving, taking my hand, stroking my cheeks, murmuring, teasing me…
Pierre was persuaded to join us with the same playful invite.
|We had picnics in the cemetery (and various parks)|
|This is the *perfect summer dress* I was talking about, Milla :o)|
The pendant is a labradorite gemstone.
|Heart-shaped Hydrangea inflorescence.|
|We let the peace of the place settle inside our merry hearts|
|Or we strolled around the Mile-End|
|and talked about the vicissitudes of this world|
|to which Lola's own philosophy|
|We enjoyed a delicious brunch|
|visited a dear friend's urban garden|
|wishing she was there|
|with her tender smile.|
|So when Pierre flew back to Paris|
|I picked up my pencils again|
|and all the drawings waiting to be done|
|were now waving to me like so many flowers|
Then when my birthday came, in September, my heart and my soul were already full of gifts.
As if Summer had planted daily seeds of joy inside me, and I had been harvesting and enjoying its fruits...
I hope you have, too :o)
La version française est ici (avec quelques photos supplémentaires.)