The days go by in whirling blur. Outside, the fireweed blooms and it is a painful reminder that all too soon summer will be gone. Can it already be mid-July? We’ve stayed busy and when the day ends we are grateful for a moment of rest and solitude before waking to do it all again. It’s funny how we lose track of time completely. Often my internal clock puts me a full day ahead or behind schedule: it has led to confusion on more than one occurrence.
We find peace in the quiet moments, whenever those come but we seem to enjoy the chaos. We fill our days up so they pass by both slow, stuck in the moment, and fast, because you are always doing something. You wake to do it all over again.
Sunday night we went over to our friends house to relax and unwind. They cooked us some incredible steaks on an open fire. We cut the steaks up and made tacos — they were out of this world. My friend was saying how they always cook on an open flame because everything just tastes better cooked on a fire. That meal definitely spoke in favor of that lifestyle and there was something to be said too for the slow, methodical preparation that it took.
Last night, they came to visit us and we lit a big bonfire and stayed out late, watching the night slip slowly away while the big brush pile turned to smoldering embers. We sit around and talk of things to come and things that have passed until it seems that the night must surely be over — how can a day last so long?
Soon enough, the days will be shrinking: shorter and shorter and shorter. The air will get a little colder, and the clear blue skies will darken as the rainy season of fall approaches. The trees will lose their leaves and night, barely present now, will grace us with her presence and we will begin the long, steady task of training dogs and traveling through the wilderness.
So for now, we enjoy the sunshine and the steady whir of life that keeps us ever-present in these long, warm days: the cold will be here soon enough.
