Midsummer - the fragrance of a thousand flowers, blackbirds and chaffinches and everybody else singing for me. The world's greatest show, pulling out all the stops whether anyone is watching or not. I never want to lose this sense of wonder. I never want to miss this feeling of grace.
Midsummer week had it all. I watched two elks swim across the sea and climb wearily out of the water. I called excavators to dig up a leaking waterpipe. I worried about the sudden revolt in neighbouring Russia. I witnessed death stalk my family and wondered if I would get a call saying someone had been taken. I celebrated Midsummer with old friends - eating grilled chicken, fish and potatoes, strawberries and chocolate, drinking homemade birchleaf mead. The sweetest taste lay in the old memories and undying friendship - and in beating the boys at darts.
Midsummer with extra everything, including mosquitoes.
Now I've withdrawn to my summer paradise, alone, to see if I can still find the old me somewhere. The one who writes blog entries and feels wonder and feels the heat of summer despite a chill in my heart.