Summer

The season offers an opportunity to embrace the Sun’s delights and celebrate the forthcoming season with a remembrance that we too are a sacred part of the cycle. It is a warm nudge to open into our relations, to dance with our inner wild and to give ourselves permission to unfold as nature unfolds. Summer is a time of unapologetic receiving, allowing ourselves to be fed to fullness by Mother Earth and Father Sun. In the garden, we embrace a practice of non-attachment as we tend to what nourishes us and pluck away what doesn’t.

As I deepen into my preservation practice, my relationship with each season evolves. Summers prior were a time of escapist external joys, making the most of a season short and sacred. Now, Summers are a time of preparation, of cultivating what will feed me throughout the year to come. In July, my garden is painted with blue Borage flowers, purple Chives and alpine Strawberries. Garlic scapes curl outward asking to be pickled, Raspberries awaken and Pansies widen their wavy little faces.

In the wild, I’m greeted by Wood Lily, Horsetail, Fire Weed, Yarrow, Broad Plantain, Stinging Nettles and Lamb’s Quarters. Many carpets of feathery Grasses, Curly Dock and plenty of Thistle. Each plant offers a teaching; a metaphor for how to rise in the world. Wild Rose is a woman of many medicines. She is masteress of contrast. She is soft and she is sharp. She makes room for all parts of herself as she blossoms into her next phase. Alongside her new growth, Rose leaves room for last year’s hips to complete their cycle knowing that when they’re ready, they’ll release themselves back to soil. She reminds me of the power in one’s willingness to honour their past in co-existence with their present unfolding.