Summer Zen

/ roughwighting

Turkey babies. poults, wildlife in my neighborhoodMy Summer Zen story began as a prompt to my creative writing students: “Write a story that includes the line: ‘I wish I could stay here forever.’ Each writer sunk into the memory of a ‘perfect’ day. But as I wrote my story, I realized that we all could find a perfect moment in every day. 

Oh, and the header photo happened this past week – eight little turkey babies (poults) on our deck railing. I think Turkey Mama was having a perfect moment.

summer breeze, summer Zen, Bing Co-Pilot designAs lavender dusk approaches, walk me into the house, put a little music on– Rosemary Clooney, Enya, Vivaldi, the Beatles Rubber Soul– and let the fresh early-summer air meander through the open window. Yes, I’m beginning to get there.

Make the cell phone stop ringing, at least turn it on mute while turning the oven on 350 degrees. Open my closet door so I can change to my 30-year-old shorts and soft cotton top. Help me find my flip flops and lead me toward the kitchen. Yes, I’m getting there. brownies; https://pixabay.com/photos/bakery-cake-brownie-pastry-820812/ ron24537

Give me an excuse to make my homemade brownies – the grandkids are coming, a friend’s birthday, a neighbor’s dog is sick — and I’ll start to crack the eggs and melt the chocolate squares, stir in the sugar, drop in a teaspoon of vanilla. As the sweet smells of baking brownies waft through the house, I feel myself getting there.

https://pixabay.com/photos/eggplant-vegetables-plant-fruits-7373425/Kathas_Fotos; summer gardeningHusband bangs into the house, racing against the fading light, washes his dirt-speckled hands under running water, and smiles. He’s had his Zen day out in the yard, pruning, painting, puttering. He kisses me while asking in almost the same breath ‘what’s for dinner?’ I point to the eggplant he’s just brought in from our garden, and pick up four round, red, luscious just-plucked tomatoes.

‘Eggplant parmesan?’ I suggest. He hops once with excitement and runs upstairs for a shower. I’m so close I can feel the aura surround me like a warm coat on a freezing day.

I peel the purple fruit as I listen to Rosemary sing soulfully about love. I dance around the kitchen with a tomato, stopping short as I see the look of concern in my dog’s searching brown eyes. I slice the tomato, feed him the ends, and know he will now love me forever. Then I dip the eggplant slices in egg and breadcrumbs.

Seconds later, my clean-faced husband checks out my dinner preparations, opens a bottle, and hands me a glass of garnet-red wine. ..we toast – clink glasses, and I see the colors change around me – the clear lucid light of reality becomes fuzzy with soft rose and warm ivory tones.

I’m there. I’ve reached my summer Zen.  I take a deep breath and soak it in before answering the call of the oven timer. How I wish we could stay here, in this moment, forever.

What’s your summer Zen? 

62 thoughts on “Summer Zen”

  2. Delightful, Pam. A blissful life. My kind of meal, too. It’s too hot right now for me to feel zen–more like thankfulness for a/c. And I’m not turning the oven on, but I am loving all the summer produce. 😊

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  5. I am there with you, such a delightful summer Zen situation. Thank you for bringing us along to be that wife, mother, creative soul. Wonderful. P.J. ________________________________

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  6. Hi. Comment link is broken. My days are so frenetic if only my pace would match this story. I think I’ll read it again. Hugs
    Best Regards,
    Nancy

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  12. All those beautiful moments, coming together…getting you ‘there’. I love it, Pam. And I can’t put my finger on the ‘why’…but your beautiful post and Rosemary’s voice summoned a wave of melancholy – in the best possible way. Soul satisfying. xo! 💕

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  13. Ah, how lovely, Pam. I was in Summer Zen yesterday, having a cocktail with my husband on a picnic table and eating oysters. After whale watching. The sun was bright, the breeze off the ocean cool, and we couldn’t stop smiling.

    Happy Summer!

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    • Zen is possible for all of us. I promise you. In fact your poems are very Zen like so I know your heart and soul are filled with it. Thank you as always for commenting so beautifully Brad.
      My guy and I were thinking about Thanksgiving as we saw those babies but really they will be our wildlife pets as they grow. Their dad comes by and spreads his gorgeous tail often. I think he is full of Zen. 🦃

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  16. I loved vicariously enjoying your summer Zen. My summer Zen tends to come later in the season, sitting at my desk as the scent of dying wildflowers and the sound of cicadas drift through my open windows. (The sun has to be shining, of course.)

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  22. Summer solstice . . . on the beach with our 3 year old great nephew and his mom, building towers and bowling them down . . . jumping the waves . . . sandy hands . . . a pause to watch the sunset over the gulf . . . before turning to notice the full moon rising and peering at us over the trees . . . with the perfect accompanying breeze.

    Summertime Bliss.

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  24. This post delights with color. Your version of Summer zen felt like a rhapsody in lavender, rose, ivory, and garnet-red wine. Oh, and the aubergine of eggplant, can’t forget that!

    I can identify with 30 year old shorts. The clothes I love best are well-worn but not thread-bare—yet! Lovely post, Pam!

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Always a pleasure to read your thoughts.