Days of summer are nearly upon us. I say nearly since, although here in New England we had a spectacular weekend, today and later this week our low temps will be in the 50’s once again. This means the armaments of our wardrobe have expanded rather than permanently contracted: the fleece and thick socks remain and the mud boots and baseball caps (for those of us who can’t find the umbrellas: everyone in my house) are front and center, and the shorts continue to be exhumed. Still, it’s a welcome transition, and reflects, I suppose, the speed at which our own household is changing.
Our youngest is nearing the middle of a 3 week school trip to France and Germany via Switzerland. The “middlers,” as they are affectionately known, are here at home until the elder middler marries in a little over 2 weeks. She and I have flown to Texas and back, my husband has flown to LAX and back, and elsewhere in the mix, the real oldest and her husband moved their household of 3 to a relative’s basement as they await a more permanent move out of the Rockies into the Corn Belt. All are on the move.
So here enter the blue flame, the indigo bunting we saw dart across our path at least 3 weeks ago on the morning marsh walk. Fast and flighty, he was quite the contrast to the majestic eagle of the last post. In his, different way, this little bird lit up the air, rushing into the lush greenery for another bug, another perch, or, perhaps, a rest.
For rest he does need occasionally, and so do we all. Days are full and we fill their extended light with so many things to which we need attend. Thus it is good to consider, even for a brief moment, the blue flame and the wake that follows. His image has simply stuck with me through all our own flights. In my mind’s eye I can still see him, and then he’s gone.