All through August I’ve been out the door each day at 6:15, to run two and a half miles to town in time for a 7 a.m. yoga class. It is only for a month, this early class, but I’m hoping that after it ends I’ll continue with my own variation on the new routine. My morning run began as something I was making myself do; with each passing day, though, it’s felt more and more like a privilege, a gift, a blessing. A few days ago Kristen at Motherese wrote about finding flow in her running this summer, and…
It is the week we look forward to all summer – the rented lake cabin, the family all together under one roof, the familiar routines of idleness. This is August and the lake is northerly, nestled at the foot of mountains, and so we pack sweaters and jeans and socks as well as bathing suits and sunscreen and flip flops. We come prepared, carrying more books than anyone could possibly read in a week, and then we pray for sun. Yesterday morning I woke early to gentle rain, cool air, clouds blanketing the peaks across the water. As summer draws…
I can see it vividly: an August morning, just exactly a year ago. My friend Diane and I were taking a walk, as we had done together countless times over the last eighteen years. As we made our way slowly down the hill near her home, the summer sun warm on our backs, we watched our two elongated shadows, side by side, moving companionably along in front of us. A pair of women walking, a pair of shadows dancing to our rhythm: a small, ordinary moment, but one I will remember always. I knew even then — I think we…
