Every spring these hostas miraculously emerge through a shady patch of bare earth beside the front walk: first small pale green points, then unfolding leaves, a spray of buds, and finally the blossoms. Now whenever I depart or return I am treated to a whiff of their rich heavy scent.
Today I plan to dress in yellow, carry freshly baked corn muffins from door to door, and oblige everyone in my family to step outside and leap over a big fat candle in lieu of a giant bonfire (which would be frowned upon by the city government) to bring us luck in the coming year. Yes! today is the solstice, and, in the northern hemisphere, the longest day of the year and the first day of summer. Make the most of your long lovely light evening, because starting tomorrow, the days will begin to grow shorter again. Happy Summer!
Every year in early June our church holds Sunday service outdoors, with plenty of singing and clapping, followed by face-painting, balloon sculptures, moon-bounce, and frisbee, accompanied by a vast spread of grilled hot dogs, potato salad, watermelon, and brownies. That’s my kind of Sunday worship. During the homily, as I sketched the father and daughter in front of us, the priest spoke about father/daughter relationships (next week being Fathers Day), and the pair exchanged an affectionate nudge.