August Afternoon

Sunday afternoons in August run from hectic to serene. Today, at least for the moment, is peaceful and quiet. Even the wind is taking it easy with no hint of its movement in the treetops.

It is so quiet outside I have to listen closely for any sounds. I hear the crickets, cicadas and a lone bird singing. On the other side of the room a fly buzzes at a screen either wanting to escape or enter; I am too lazy to find out which. From somewhere far off comes the faint roar of a jet. It’s a perfect day for a nap, yet I won’t lie down and let sleep overtake me.

Napping, it seems to me at least, is a conscience decision to give in and quit (at least for a little while). I fight sleep during the day as I feel I have so much to do that I cannot afford to take a nap. Because Sundays are a day of rest, I avoid unpleasant physical work when possible, choosing instead to write something I hope will be worth reading and read something from my pile of books and papers. Often, I fall asleep at my desk or in a chair. It’s nothing I’m proud of, nor do I seek it – it just happens. While writing, when I am searching my mind for the next phrase or word, I will relax to the point of nodding off. When I am reading, my eyes will close involuntarily, and I lose my place and a few minutes of the day.

A butterfly bounces past the window followed by a breeze – the butterfly effect I wonder? Today is a good day to notice the small things that normally escape my attention. Often I get caught up in the rush of the day and miss the beauty that is right in front of me.

For instance, yesterday (Saturday) I was up early as I had so much to do. I cut and hauled tree limbs and branches most of the day from the yard to the brush pile and not once did I marvel at the shape of the leaves or the grain of the wood. I mowed without noticing the sweet smell of fresh cut grass. I sprayed for weeds without regard to their strength and tenacity.

Summer days are long, but the summer time is short. We have more time during the day to take it all in, but we have few days in which to do so. Inversely, the winter days are short, but the winter drags.

On many winter nights I find serenity within the words of a good book and the warmth of the wood stove. Often it is because it is too cold and dark to be outside, and there is not that much to do out there anyway that I find myself inside.

But it’s not cold and dark yet. It’s true that the summer is busy and it goes by too fast, maybe it’s because we make it so. Sunday afternoons in August: what a wonderful time to enjoy life.