I know it's not official, we're a month off from the June solstice and all, but the idea of a season starting when the whole planet is in a particular place, rather than when each place on that planet is going into its own summer thing, is a bit silly, isn't it?
So I'm calling it. Summer is here. My friends in New England may not have seen daffodils until late April. They may only just be seeing spirea and their lilacs are only just beginning to fade, but here in Richmond, the spring green has darkened, strawberry season is nearly over, and the scent of honeysuckle is giving way to Southern magnolia. Mosquitoes are biting, mulberries are ripening, the days are humid and heavy, thunderstorms are brewing. School will be out any second. Today is Memorial Day, and our summer has begun.
I'm on the hunt for plumage for myself that is airy, summery, a little bit frilly, but not so much that it can't go with me on adventures with three little boys. On my way, I stopped to capture some magnolias. There is nothing like resting on a bench under one of these trees, folding your legs under a cotton skirt, feeling the mellow late May air around you, and breathing in the scent of the enormous blossoms opening above. I wanted to bottle the air and mail it to somebody. Any takers?
(subject quote: from Wlliam Carlos Williams)