Summer on the farm.

Days that begin with the cheery serenade of birds.

The warmth of the sun on my face.

Tall rows of corn – a sea of green, now in mid-summer is over my head.

Green grass beneath my feet, frogs and grasshoppers jumping out of my path as I walk by.

The trees, full and tall, provide a canopy of filtered light and a perch to the birds busily flying about.

Flowers in bloom, dazzling with brilliant colors of coral, purple, yellow, and red.

All seems to hum, energy pulses through the land, dragonflies, bees, and butterflies dancing on the air.

Long days, full of sunlight and fluffy white clouds, lead to beautiful sunsets.

Frogs join in the nighttime symphony.

The full moon above casts its perfect light on the gently rolling hills, an owl calls out in the distance.

I write this to remember.

Though I try to embrace each season, summer is my favorite time – it’s when I feel most alive. I dreamt of these days in the harsh cold of winter. It’s also an offering of thanksgiving – for this farm I call home, the wide-open spaces I longed for years before it became my unexpected reality. I am grateful for every bird, every summer morning, every moment.