HeatPosted: June 28, 2013
It is hot.
Sweat-snaking-down-your-body-like-the-Amazon-through-the-sweltering-South-American-jungle kind of hot.
I sit in our backyard and the dark flagstone patio sends up a shimmery curtain of heat. The girls are running through the sprinklers in their swimsuits, their small bodies whirling in the water, just so. LP is blowing spit bubbles and smiles when his sisters comes close. It’s pretty damn good.
When the weather gets hot, I think of what grows. Peaches, berries, corn. Sunflowers. The days get light, the earth produces its abundance, Mother Earth’s metabolism kicks up. At the same time, I think of preservation—canning all that life, heat, abundance for some future moment.
I look at my three children in the shimmer and sparkle of today, and I want to preserve this as well. All three breathtaking bodies, laughing, yelling, moving in the heat. In a decade, or two, when I open this preserved moment, I hope it is all still here, burning bright.
Happy Friday. Go make a memory. xox