I know August and everything after is a Counting Crows album, but it’s August, and since everything after is in our direct future, well. There you go. Right now is literally August and everything after.
Anyway, the guy who sells sweet corn from his el camino was out the other day for the first time this summer, and that’s always a sign of the turning of the tide. It’s 95 degrees today, so it feels like full-on summer, and I suppose it is— but seeing that el camino and those sweet corn ahead signs reminds me that the season is getting ready to shift. Time is passing, even when the days seem to stretch out and yawn like lazy cats. Days are long, but summer is short. There’s always a lot to do, even when I don’t feel too busy. Sometimes to-do lists are little gremlins that creep around, growing under the radar, suddenly appearing out of nowhere, demanding attention.
I wrote this in the June 5 installment of Ordinary Collisions: Do the things you truly want to do, is what I’m saying. The things that fill you up with aliveness, the things that make you remember what it feels like to be fully present in your body, in your place, with your people, in your life. Sometimes this means planting a huge garden or maintaining the yard or hosting a dinner party or vacationing in a far off land. Sometimes it means leveling up in something or putting in the work where the work is necessary. But don’t do things just because you think you should, or the things that deplete more than they fill, or the things that are photogenic but not actually fun or nourishing for you, or helpful to anyone else.
So, two months later, I’m thinking about how I’ve done at following my own advice. Have I been doing things that fill me up with aliveness and presence? I’ve certainly planted a huge garden and attempted to maintain the yard. I’ve spent a lot of time at home, at least attempting to be present in my body and my place and my people. I’ve gone to a dinner party, and visited family. We are about to vacation1, though not in a far off land, unless you consider the UP of Michigan to be a far off land (of course, 200 years ago, a place 300+ miles away from home was considered a far off land). We’ve swum in the lake and lazed about on the diving raft like otters.2 We’ve dunked ourselves in the river, dug in the sand, and waded under the local waterfall. There’s been plenty of work to do, and plenty of opportunity to lament what’s not yet been done. I’ve been trying to focus on what’s already good, but allow space for the days when focusing on the good feels too hard. Life continues to ebb and flow, and days oscillate between drab and fantastic. As it does and as days will continue to do.
And then, the el camino shows up, and we buy sweet corn as summer sighs through the rest of its days as we garden time, cultivating it into the rhythms that nourish us (and give us the strength to keep the to-do list gremlins at bay, or at the very least, contained to a small space).
As mentioned in the footnotes, no posts next week, but stay tuned for the next Ordinary Collisions Interview later in August.
Event happenings to put on the calendar:
August 19, I’ll be at the Gammelgården Museum in Scandia, MN from 11am to 4pm for the annual Spelmansstämman, for a celebration all about Swedish and Ojibwe culture, that will be featuring folk music; Swedish & Ojibwe children's activities and crafts; historic building tours; presentations by Swedish and Anishanaabe individuals, and an arts & crafts fair. I’ll have copies of most of my books available, including Collisions of Earth and Sky, which fittingly mentions this event in its pages.
Then join me on Saturday, September 16 for the Marine Fall Festival, celebrating the beauty of autumn and handcrafted art in the St. Croix Valley. Marine on St. Croix, MN, 10-4pm.
And after that is the second annual local author fair at Pleasant Valley Orchard on September 23. More on that later, but feel free to mark your calendar now, and plan on stopping by to get books and apples for your autumn season.
No ordinary collisions posts next week, since….vacation. See you later in August.
And the actual otters have been gracing us with their presence all week out there in the lake. Still magical, every time I see them out there.
Sweet corn from the back of an el camino. That is perfect.