Saturday, June 25, 2011


Every summer my mom plants new flowers in the front flower beds and gently tends to the perennials so that throughout June, July, and August the front of our house blooms with color. I love all the flowers but especially the June Lilies, which burst into color the first month of summer in bright red, yellow, orange, and sometimes pink.

When my little brother was brought home from the hospital on June 21st, the lilies were in full bloom and my older brother and I sat on the front porch among the lilies waiting for our newest sibling to arrive. My brother as a baby is a vague memory now, but the lilies stand tall and clear in my mind against their strong green stems and the blue Ohio sky.

This morning the sun is out and I can see the lilies through my open window, and I'm thankful for their beauty and the summer sun.

Sunday, June 12, 2011

A June Afternoon.

I'm reading Dandelion Wine for the umpteenth time since I got the book over Christmas break. If anyone knows what it's like to be truly alive it's this little kid, Douglas. If you haven't read this book go to the library as soon as it opens and get it or buy it, better yet. It's like a bit of summer in your hands.

"Dandelion wine.
The words were summer on the tongue. The wine was summer caught and stoppered. And now Douglas knew, he really knew he was alive, and moved turning through the world to touch and see it all, it was only right and proper that some of his new knowledge, some of this special vintage day would be sealed away for opening on a January day with snow falling fast and the sun unseen for weeks or months and perhaps some of the miracle by then forgotten and in need of renewal. Since this was going to be a summer of unguessed wonders, he wanted it all salvaged and labeled so that any time he wished, he might tiptoe down in this dank twilight of the cellar reach up his fingertips."

-Dandelion Wine by Ray Bradbury