Summer Down South

It is Summer Down South again.  This is the first gardenia of the season, and it smells as heady as it looks floating in my pink depression glass. 

The Best Season

Summer is the best season of all, and the image above is one of the reasons.  Even when temperatures soar near 100 degrees during the first week of June, it is bearable.  Summer is what every other season is waiting for - the fullness of nature, the world brimming with life, the ripeness of fruits and vegetables and, of course, homemade ice cream.  Magic happens in Summer's lushness, and with this photograph I welcome you to my Summer paradise.  Won't you come in and have some virtual lemonade over crushed ice?

Fall

"Fall" copyright by Jan Neal, all rights reserved

Summer

Summer is my favorite season, and when I say so, it raises eyebrows in my part of the world.  Summer?  Afterall, it is nearly unbearable with heat and humidity in the gulf coast states. 

But no.  It is more than bearable.  It is the fullness of time when nature does all she can do; when fruit ripens and tomato sandwiches are a possibility; when peaches ripen and the juice runs down my chin; when hydrangeas and agapantha bloom and enchant so that I almost believe that fairies do dance in my garden; when the earth is covered in the rained blossoms of crepe myrtle; when fireflies illunminate the night sky and I look forward to seeing my garden bathed in the silver light of the full moon.  

And nights so very quiet but for the hum of a fan...    

Easter: When The Sun Dances and Rocks Sing

It is Holy Week, and we celebrate the final moments of the life of Christ, reenacting the institution of the eucharist, his death on Good Friday and his return to life on Easter morning.

I cannot say that I enjoy this part of the Christian Year best, but I can clearly say that it has the greatest impact on me. I ponder, study and read a good deal this time of year. I wonder what it all means, how loyal would I have been, how unimaginable to see him suffer and die, the veil decorated with angels ripping in the temple, the indescribable joy in the garden seeing him alive again!  Mary...Teacher?....

The more I ponder the events of the crucifixion and resurrection I am amazed by the cosmic significance of these events, and I think that I "get it" a little better every year. This is much more than an event in history. Our memesis, or reliving, the events convinces me that all of creation hung in the balance as Christ hung on the cross. He did have a choice. He chose not to come off of the cross and destroy this creation. This is why we are here today.

One indicator of the cosmic nature of Holy Week is found in Luke 19:37-40. When Jesus entered Jeruselem the crowd of followers joyfully praised God for the miracles they had seen and cheered "Blessed is the king who comes in the name of the Lord, Peace in Heaven and glory in the highest!" This was something that got under the skin of some Pharisees, so they urged Jesus to rebuke the gleefully loud followers for saying this. Jesus said " I tell you, if they keep quiet, the stones will cry out."

Think about that...the stones will cry out (!). The cosmos would cry out; nature itself would cheer him on if the followers did not. The concept has filled me with awe since "Jesus Christ Superstar" when I first noticed that specific statement of Jesus. All of nature would hail him. My, my.

And another of my favorite stories of the cosmic nature of Holy Week and Easter comes from Carmina Gadelica,  Alexander Carmichael's collection of prayers, hymns, charms, songs, poems, incantations, blessings, runes, and other folklore in Scotland among the Gaelic speaking people there between 1855 and 1910. Every Easter I revisit the story of  Barbara Macphie of Dreimsdale who gave testimony to seeing the sun dance on Easter morning in joy for a risen Saviour. 

Barbara watched her whole life to see for herself if the Gaelic myth were true.  Only once did she witness this cosmic celebration, and she described it as follows:  " The glorious gold-bright sun was after rising on the crests of the great hills, and it was changing colour--green, purple, red, blood-red, white, intense-white, and gold-white, like the glory of the God of the elements to the children of men. It was dancing up and down in exultation at the joyous resurrection of the beloved Saviour of victory.  To be thus privileged, a person must ascend to the top of the highest hill before sunrise, and believe that the God who makes the small blade of grass to grow is the same God who makes the large, massive sun to move." 

Perhaps Barbara believed enough that one time.   Perhaps someday I will join Barbara Macphie in believing enough and be thus privileged to witness the stones cry out and the sun dance for joy as the cosmos celebrates the risen Lord.