"Sunrise on McCormack"
photograph © Bruce A. Morrison
(click on image for a larger view)
Today, as I write this entry, is the Summer Solstice. There is something about those words, "summer solstice" that I find almost mystical...mysterious...much like a bank of intangible emotions. The evenings now have an air of insects and amphibians, carried aloft across the valley and into the yard windows. It lulls you to sleep and brings pleasant dreams, but not really of this world.
Does summer take on a more specific meaning or feeling to a person after many decades on this earth? I have to believe so. The seasons have long been compared to our lives; maybe the summer solstice reminds me of younger days...I don't know. But it does make me feel motivated somehow. My motivation is "out there" certainly...out there, outside that yard window, that music in the valley that Georgie and I embrace each morning, afternoon and evening.
If I were to sit upon a twig and float down the creek outside our door, I would eventually pass this place I've photographed here. It reminds me of the summer solstice...there is that same feeling of fleeting intangibles I'm so desperately trying to put into words. And now that this moment has passed, the days will very slowly shorten once again, but I am grasping every encounter and savoring and caching them for the rest of the summer and into the final seasons.