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Feels Like Summer

June 22, 2026 //
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No surprise that it feels like summer, I suppose; it is. What is more surprising is that we’ve got another extreme heat warning for our area (two already this year). I guess we’re fortunate. It’s only expected to be in the 90’s.

[No AI is used in writing or editing this blog. This is human content for human readers.]

An orange dawn greets me at the trailhead.

I head down the trail with a song in my head. I mostly don’t mind summertime, but it isn’t my favorite. I do have a lot of nostalgic feelings about summer. Memories of hot summer mornings, stifling humidity, swimming lessons, icy cold root beer or sweet tea on the screened-in back porch, and fireflies at twilight fill my thoughts as I walk. I have recollections of so many sticky sleepless nights, and the sweet relief of the cold flowing from the window AC when we were permitted to use it.

This is a very different time and place in my life. My feet carry me past towering oaks until the trail turns to wrap around the vineyard. I get to my halfway point and take a seat on a log left behind after a fallen tree was cut up and hauled away. I wonder, again, why this section was left behind? Doesn’t really matter, it’s a good spot to sit, to write, meditate, and welcome a new day.

The weekend was a thoroughly pleasant one. I didn’t paint but the studio is now set up for it, and I feel as if I could step into the studio at any time on any day and begin to work. It’s a nice feeling. It will require some changes of habit and timing to make skillful use of the opportunity. That’s fine. Life doesn’t stand still. Change is.

After some time passes, I realize that my mind has wandered far away to camping trips and plein air painting. I’d ideally like to go somewhere that presents me with huge vistas and open skies, maybe the high desert down south a ways, or some mountainside with views of hills beyond hills… Do I really want to camp, or just drive far with my camera, stopping for viewpoints and short hikes to see sights? There are so many beautiful and interesting things to see on this continent. I don’t have to go far to see something new or wonderful – Oregon is big. I haven’t yet seen it all.

I breathe, exhale, and relax. I pull myself back to this moment, here, now. The work day will begin shortly, but that time is not now. This moment, here, in the early morning summer sunshine, is mine. I watch the sunlight illuminate the tops of the oaks, slowly reaching the edges of the grape vines. I contentedly sit, watching the changing light. (I admit, it doesn’t take much to entertain me.) I’m grateful to have this moment of solitude and joy, satisfied to watch a sunrise. Grateful to have another mortal day.

I take a breath, and then another. I soak in the beauty of the morning, before the heat of the day settles in. It is a deliciously pleasant moment, in spite of pain (which isn’t too bad this morning), in spite of tinnitus (which is shrieking loudly in my ears), in spite of the (likely to be) busy work day ahead. I’m okay with all of it. I’m feeling relaxed and unbothered. I feel like summer. 😆

I smile to myself and stretch. The trail is bathed in golden morning light. Beautiful. I squint towards the rising sun and get to my feet. It’s time to begin again – a new day is waiting for me.

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Categories Allegories, art and the artist, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, joy, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being, Words

Feels Like Summer

June 7, 2025 //
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There’s a heat warning for later this weekend, and today looks like it’ll be a hot day by afternoon. Here on the trail in the morning sunshine, the air smells sweetly of mown grasses and meadow flowers. A fence rail makes a convenient seat to stop awhile. I listen to the birds calling to each other and singing morning songs. It’s hard to separate the sound of distant traffic from the sound of the river, from this spot.  The golden hues of the sunlight remind me I have work to do in my garden this weekend. The inappropriately warm sweater I threw on reminds me I also need to do laundry.

A perspective on a summery morning.

My mind wanders to other summers, and recollections of summer mornings long past. I hear bees getting their day started, and instinctively check for my epi-pen, in my pocket. One more thing to grab each morning before I set off down the trail. I’m grateful to be so well prepared when I hit the trail, my backpack stocked with things I might need, and always right there in my car, ready for adventure.

… I send a silent “thank you” to my Traveling Partner, who suggested years ago that I just leave my backpack in my car, since I’m out on the trail so often and might need something in it. He was right, great practice that has served me well, from bee sting kit to snack bars, to hand soap, toilet tissue, and hair ties, rain gear, and clean dry socks. lol I’m prepared for most circumstances, most of the time…

I sit watching the sun rise, thinking about icy cold sweet tea on a screened in porch, and the sounds of insects buzzing, and the big floor fan blowing the humid air around without much effect. I recall wading in the warm muddy shallows of Weems Creek, chasing minnows and tadpoles, crabbing, or fishing for sunnies. Childhood memories untainted by trauma.  Summers were stifling hot, and summertime seemed timeless, made up of swimming lessons, weekend mornings in the garden, and long quiet afternoons reading books. Books were my readily available escape from the world, but I often find myself wishing I had been more fearlessly present in my experience at that time, and more easily able to recall it clearly, now. Funny how perspective and time change the value of past events.

Nozomi needs weeding. I remind myself to wear gloves.

I sit with my thoughts awhile longer. It’s nothing to be moody about, and I don’t tend to linger on regret; it serves little useful purpose. Besides, the sun is up, and the clock is ticking; there are experiences to have now, today, and memories to make in the garden that is my own. It’s time to begin again, already.

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Categories Allegories, breathe, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Roses, solo hiking, Spring, Summer, The Art of Being

Unsolicited Advice

July 7, 2024 //
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It’s going to be another hot summer day. I remind myself unnecessarily to drink enough water (meaning, specifically, more than usual). Seems likely that the remaining summers ahead for human kind will continue to be hot and then hotter, unless something changes. Stay cool. Take care of yourself. Avoid punishing manual labor in the heat of the day. Be alert for signs of heat-related illness and take steps sooner than later.

Another hot summer day ahead.

I woke early and slipped away into the earliest hint of dawn. The morning air was still and felt somehow warmer than the 67°F than it was. Yesterday the morning felt warm at 60°F. Tomorrow it’ll no doubt feel warmer still at some higher temperature. The nights are not cooling off completely and the days are getting warmer, too. Summer.

The sun rose an irritable looking orange at the edge of a hazy pink horizon, as I drove to the trailhead. It was vivid and beautiful, particularly the view as I came around a bend in the road, with Mt Hood silhouetted a deep smudgy lavender against the vibrant colors of the dawn. I love that particular view, and I am forced to enjoy it in the moment; there’s no place to stop, there, so no opportunity to get a picture, and I never know ahead of time what beauty may appear – and quickly disappear – as I come around that bend in the road.

So here it is another day. Another hot one. I walked my walk, taking note of the increasingly warm temperatures as I walked. Drinking water. At my halfway point, I sit awhile watching and listening. I update my list of things to get done today. I drink more water. I write these few words. The warm humid morning and sense of sharing the trail (though I don’t see anyone else) push me to maintain a brisk pace, and I am eager to get home and have a shower. I’m unpleasantly sticky with sweat.

I walk on, thinking thoughts of balance, perspective, moderation, and sufficiency. I breathe, exhale, and relax, grateful to have remembered to take allergy medication this morning. I watch the sun rise as I walk, and now I am distracted by having to pee. Still drinking water.

I approached the parking lot (and the restrooms), unsurprised to see it nearly full. It’s clearly time to begin again.

… Stay cool. Be safe. Drink water. Know your physical limits. Wear sunscreen if you’re going outside. Take care of yourself; you matter. Be careful with those spoons…

An update, some time later, same day…

My Traveling Partner woke shortly after I arrived home, and not in a good mood. His sleep was interrupted and less than ideally restful. He’s had a change of medication, too, and it’s causing considerable irritability. He’s aware of it, and alerts me (and the Anxious Adventurer) of the situation, asks for our patience, and suggests we keep our distance as much as possible. Practical advice, and I plan to take it. There’s little about my to-do list that requires participation or even input from anyone, so I figure I can keep myself productively occupied for much of the day.

…First things first, a healthy breakfast salad, and a nice cup of tea…

I queue up my art video playlist for some study time over a bite of breakfast. A good beginning, suited to the day ahead, beating the heat. Next, after breakfast, I’ll tackle the housekeeping chores while the day is still cool… I may even paint with these new pastels, today! 😀 I sip my tea and hope that my partner’s experience of the day improves once he is fully awake, and has had his coffee. If not then, I hope he finds a suitable opportunity to begin again, and finds his success there.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, health, Healthy Living, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Summer, The Art of Being

Watching the Time

June 21, 2024 //
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Pretty morning. Splendid sunrise. I slept well, and with no regrets I slept without my sleep tracker on my wrist. Did that change the quality of my sleep? Maybe. Maybe not. But… Maybe.

The first sunrise of summer.

Without regard to sleep quality, I’d be giving up the sleep tracker anyway; my wearable is no longer supported by the manufacturer, and the new phone I’ve just moved into isn’t the same brand and “doesn’t play nicely” with my old wearable. Totally fine, I think I am effectively done with trying to capture all that biometric data. It was initially useful and sometimes eye-opening, but that hasn’t been the case for a while, and the device itself just tethers me to my phone, and pings me fucking constantly. Over it.

Father’s Day got my Traveling Partner and I talking about watches, time, and time pieces, after I gifted him a modest field watch for everyday wear.

Practical and basic.

I guess I’ve missed wearing a watch. 😆 I gave that up years ago, before I ever began wearing a connected device, (because I had such an unhealthy and stressful relationship with time). That was so very long ago that it’s just not a thing anymore, even to the slightest degree. I don’t have panic attacks over being a couple minutes late. I don’t freak out if someone else creates conditions that throw carefully timed plans into chaos. (Hell, I rarely make “carefully timed plans” with the sort of inflexible precision that they could so easily be wrecked by timing, at all.)

So… I’m contentedly re-embracing wearing a watch. It’s not as if that’s super necessary, either. My phone is almost always very nearby, and I can easily check the time. I like the look of a watch. Elegant or practical. Fancy or plain. There’s something amazing about a watch. Such a finely crafted tiny piece of machinery capable of so much precision! Impressive among human achievements in the way bound books, libraries, and printing presses are impressive. These things are among our best human achievements.

Fancy and fun.

I have a lovely fun watch my Traveling Partner gifted me. It’s pretty, and a bit fancy for everyday. I enjoy wearing it (even more lately), but it isn’t quite the right choice for everyday wear. We’ve spent fun hours this week talking about watches and casually shopping together for watches we might like to own, and getting to know this facet of each other’s personal style. Selecting a watch is every bit as intimate as lingerie. It’s been an extraordinary way to connect and be close. Fun.

… The clock is always ticking…

I sit with happy thoughts, early on a Friday morning. The Solstice was yesterday. Ordinary enough day. I worked.  It was quite a hot day for the first day of summer. Fitting. Today is likely to be similarly hot. I’m okay with it – and grateful to have AC.

I sit thinking about time, and watches, and watching time. In some upcoming future moment, I will begin again… in the meantime, it’s enough to be here, now. Watching the sun rise on a summer morning, unconcerned about the time.

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, breathe, Free Will, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, meditation, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Practices, Relationships, Summer, The Art of Being

You Gonna Sit In Here All Day?

July 3, 2021 //
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Hey! There’s a world out there. No kidding, it’s been kept a closely held secret for many months, but… yeah. There’s an entire world out there! Other people. Other places. Vaccinated yet? Mask up and get out there into the world! See something new. Meet another human doing other human things. Listen to a new tune. It’s a new day.

…Are you ready to begin again?

My Traveling Partner interrupts my Saturday morning reverie; I’d gotten lost in summertime tunes and reflections inward on external things. lol Coffee half gone, completely cold… there’s a summer day out there! Things to do! A life to live! (He misses me when I am “so far away” with my thoughts, as peculiar as that seems to me.)

There’s a summer garden to tend!

I think of far away friends and future travels. I think of trails I could be walking, right now. Errands that need to be run. Summertime music plays in my ears. I feel the smile on my face and the ease in my shoulders and my posture; it’s rare to feel this relaxed, just… “summery”. 🙂 It’s enough. More than enough. Blue skies. Birdsong. Good coffee. A bright summer day stretching out ahead of me just begging me to do something… maybe anything. 🙂

I think of childhood summers. I recall how hard it was understand adults wanting to just kick it on the porch or in the back yard on a summer day when they could be anywhere… now? Now I’m delighted to have a vast-seeming expanse of deck to kick it on, on a summer day. lol Perspective changes over time, as we gain experience and understand other views of life. I guess that is pretty fucking obvious.

…It may be less obvious why I’m not writing, when I’m not writing, though, and I have this to say about that… it’s summertime. 🙂

Begin again. Go, and do, and be. The practice will be worthwhile. 🙂 ❤

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Categories Allegories, Brain Injury, Free Will, gardening, gratitude, Healthy Living, inspiration, Love, Metaphors, Mindfulness, Moments, Oregon Trails, Perspective, Post Traumatic Stress, Relationships, solo hiking, Summer, The Art of Being
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