Putting Away Summer

As the leaves continue falling and the temperatures drop along with the leaves I am reluctantly saying goodbye to the warm half of the year in Minnesota. It’s always a bittersweet day when I switch from my summer wardrobe to my winter wardrobe.

Yesterday I made the switch. All of the pretty sleeveless summer clothes, shorts, and lightweight shirts are now consigned to a bin in the closet. And the heavier sweaters, flannel shirts, and fleece are again taking front and center in the closet.

Big heavy sigh…

I hate

Though some of my winter clothes are so warm and cozy that they remind me of sitting and sipping hot cocoa in front of the fireplace I will miss summer and the growing season of the year. As trees and plants go dormant and gardens and fields are put to bed for the winter I long for endless summer. But then I wouldn’t appreciate the seasons that we have so much. Each season holds its own beauty and pleasures.

Part of putting away summer for me is to review the photographs I made during the season and getting ready for a different season of photography.

So today I’m sharing some of my favorite summer photographic memories with you. I hope you enjoy them.

And though I’ve shared it before, I’m sharing it again today — one of my favorite Mary Oliver poems.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean-
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down-
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

—Mary Oliver

Do you hate putting away summer too?

May you walk in beauty.