It is a breezy summer day today, and I can smell water on the wind, though the air is dry and clear. The world is full of rustling leaves, and I have set up a recliner underneath a maple tree, where I divide my attention between my novel and the beauty of the undersides of leaves.
Want to know how beautiful my home in summer is? It’s so beautiful that I’m actually reluctant to go to New England Yearly Meeting Sessions.
Oh, I’ll go, I’ll go. It is the spiritual cornerstone of my year, these days. I would even regret it if I didn’t.
But I am loathe to leave. The days are precious here.