Summer Retrospective, Part 2

Actually a picture from last fall--the beach in summer is less photogenic due to the crowds

This summer, I actually have a tan. Since I’m extremely fair, you might not recognize it as such unless you know me well (or saw me naked–but that usually presupposes knowing me well, or at least being in a dance studio locker room with me). Trust me, though: I’m tan.

Part of the reason is the garden. I’ve been out there nearly every day, at least to harvest vegetables. The vegetables will get a separate post, I think. Short version: we’ve already frozen, canned, and dehydrated enough veggies that we’ll hardly have to buy anything over the winter. Lettuce, at least once ours is buried in snow, potatoes, onions, and carrots. Everything else is pretty much covered unless we get a fierce craving for something like an avocado.

We’ve also gone to the beach a lot.

I make no secret of how much I love the ocean, but in the past, we’ve rarely gone to the beach in high summer. Parking is expensive in Ogunquit on summer weekends and the beach gets so crowded it’s no longer pleasant. But thanks to unemployment and a husband with a lot of accumulated vacation time, we’ve been able to head up on week days, when it’s much less of a mob scene. I can’t say I’ve had my fill of salt air, sand, and body surfing–I’m not sure that’s even possible–but I feel like an empty well has been refilled by time near and in the water, as well as time in the garden.

In fact, I realized tonight that “refilling the well” has been the theme of this summer. I’ve been writing steadily, but not as devotedly and doggedly as a full-time writer normally would. I’ve produced a great deal, but again, not as much as I figured I might when I made the decision not to rush back to a full-time outside job.

Tonight I acknowledged I left my last job so completely crisp and dry that it’s taken many months to recover fully on the creative and spiritual levels. Even on our beach vacation last year, I was stressed, unable to relax. I did better in New Orleans, but came back and quickly misplaced any magic I might have accumulated in that city of jazz and sultry nights. I’d been dealing with my mother’s ill-health for several years, unable to do much, but constantly worried. (FYI on that front: I’m delighted to say she’s turned a corner and the last time I visited, we were able to go out and do fun things together, albeit slowly and in small doses.) I was constantly exhausted.

And it’s taken me far too long to lose all that baggage. Luckily, nature was glad to conspire with me in helping me “misplace” it all.

Much as I need to write, I think I’ve needed to get my hands in the dirt, needed to grow and cook food, needed to pick flowers. Needed to immerse myself in the power of the ocean. Needed to walk in the woods. Needed to find a spiritual center again.

And I think this summer has done it. Although it’s after Labor Day and the air holds a hint of cooler weather to come even at its most steamy, it’s still summer for a few more weeks, and the celebration of Mabon, the autumn equinox, will make a turn in my personal year as well. I feel healthier than I have in years. Now it’s time to get some real work done, without losing the internal glow I’m enjoying now.