summer is passing quickly.
yesterday evening was summer to a "T." I drove with the sunroof down, windows open. The air smelled like cookouts. A deep, lush green wrapped the curling roads up in a snug blanket. Broken Social Scene's song, "World Sick," played loudly in my ears - words like globalization and colonization swept through my mind, closely followed by Wendell Berry and images of emaciated children. (thank you kindly, documentary.)
we watched the fireworks with open mouths.
the bursts of light were fireflies playing tag,
peacocks showing off,
dazzling shimmering fountains of radiance.
i could write about a lot of things right now. i could write about the weekend spent with family at the cottage or the moments spent with my dear cousins last week. i could write about working and finding joy and purpose in mowing grass, or about the books i am reading and the people i am meeting. i could write about today's weather and the way the sunsets are always different...but my words are tired and my thoughts have yet to catch up with my days and so instead i will just include this little snippet that i scribbled down after a lovely moment of silence on tuesday. it is not much; i apologize.
Last night I decided to bike up and down the street a few times before heading to karaoke night. My muscles complained slightly as I began to peddle. (and increased in sound as I forced them uphill.) The air felt cool on my face, thick with emotion. Biking after a twelve hour work day is a good plan. As I looped back and forth past the neighbor's house I stared intently at the charred remains of life. I thought about how deer used to live in the backyard, and a trampoline after that. I thought about the people that never open those doors anymore, never park in the driveway, never catch my eye as I speed up the road. It seems so normal now. The sight barely makes my heart sad. (this frightens me, for the darkness and death remain.) I thought of my soul and how cold and dead parts of it are - I fear that has become normal too.
My stamina grew and I circled up through the development off Ironville Pike, still growing I faced Pitney Road next. I did not make it. I had to walk. At the top I debate, Indian Head or the old church and cemetery loop. At first I lean towards Indian Head but the ever brightening pink sky convinces me otherwise. The road says closed but I slide through finding myself on an empty and familiar pass. My legs fill with gratitude as the road slopes downward. I circle through the church parking lot and think of the time we road tandem bike for the first time last summer - zach, dad, kayla and I rotating through. I loop down through the cemetery and think about walks and runs with mom when the loop seemed so long. Looking at the names of the people who now exist only in the past tense of thoughts, my mind wanders. I thought about flying off my bike and smashing my head on a tombstone, dying in a cemetery...(sounds like the name of an emo band's song.) I thought of that woman we met on the Rails to Trail, the one on the nice tandem bike who thanked me and Jonah for wearing our helmets. I felt guilty. (my helmet was left in the garage, safely on the shelf - on purpose.)
After each loop through the vacant parking lot I thought about stopping, considered biking home - but with each turn the sky grew more beautiful. The pink sky pleased my eyes and reminded me of God's faithfulness; how beautiful his unfailing love. Though I close my ears to his voice, spit in his face, and turn my thoughts to everything but him - still he remains. And his remaining is not passive, but full of passionate pursuit. (God have mercy.)
[in smaller news:]
1. eggs for lunch
2. bon iver
3. playing (...memorizing) hymns on harmonica
4. zucchini everything
5. thinking a lot about the future
6. going to the library
7. playing tennis