Summer / solace / meditation / yoga

So, here it is, ending of August, and summer is fading fast. This is the time I get lost, want to stop the clock, stop fall from ever arriving at all. I am the summer girl, never have I ever been much more than that. In my teen years it meant pretty clothes, flowers, suntan lines, bikinis and salads. In my adult married years it meant the ending of yet another unforgiving winter spent in a house where the walls always shook with my husband's rage.

When the kids went off to college, it meant, them coming home again, or myself, driving to them. It meant writing and poetry, music and dancing, and the warmth of the sun rolling off of my back, as my painted red toenails played peek - a - boo amid the straps of my sandals.

 Even later on than that, it meant watching my roses bloom, morning glory vines draped across a self made fence, the quartz of rocks in my garden sparkling amid the midday sun. It meant peace, solace, solitude and comfort all in the same breath.

It meant sweat dripping down my arms, as my sneakers hit the pavement just at the cusp of dawn.  It meant yoga on my patio or deck, in undies, where always birds in flight gave a come hither look as they flew by.  I already miss the summer, and it has not even evaporated yet from my doorstep. I miss the simplicity it stands for, and the joy it brings to my life.

I miss the shells I have gathered, as they perch themselves on a shelf, waiting for their placement in a glass bowl they will soon call their own. I miss the blooming of flowers, that will soon draw themselves back and inward, dropping petals to the ground as a bed for the leaves soon to be falling atop of them. I miss the shelter of sun that drives my thoughts and my physical.

I want of a fairytale I have envisioned since childhood, where the lemonade keeps flowing and periwinkles keep rolling over my toes amid the crashing of the shoreline. I miss my flip-flops, the black, the pink, and the silver ones, that will soon be up on a shelf in darkness. Each year I almost forget how sad the ending of summer feels, until, once again, I am reminded, as it once again, draws near. I think we all have our particular season of life, a season we cherish for this reason or that, a season we flourish in, for this reason or that...watermelon was always my season...the season I thrived in...