The Poetry of the Earth

Laying in bed, last night.

No lights, windows open.  Just the fingernail clip of a yellow moon keeping an eye on things.

And a serenade by the end-of-summer choir of crickets.

"How many crickets do you think we are hearing? Like 100? Or 14? Or like a million?"

"I don't know."

"I wonder."

I send a thought out of my 2nd story window, down and into the night, the dark, through the old oak tree branches, slipping to the dewy grass, into the crevices of the tiger lilies.

Goodnight, sweet crickets, constant in this night, rocking me to sleep. Your song nearly makes me weep, carries me softly back thirty years of summer eves.

THE POETRY of earth is never dead:
When all the birds are faint with the hot sun,
And hide in cooling trees, a voice will run
From hedge to hedge about the new-mown mead;
That is the Grasshopper’s—he takes the lead
In summer luxury,—he has never done
With his delights; for when tired out with fun
He rests at ease beneath some pleasant weed.
The poetry of earth is ceasing never:
On a lone winter evening, when the frost
Has wrought a silence, from the stove there shrills
The Cricket’s song, in warmth increasing ever,
And seems to one in drowsiness half lost,
The Grasshopper’s among some grassy hills. John Keats, December 30, 1816.

The Good of Down

Today. Me and the girls slept in until 7:28 and that is early but it felt late.

Today. I caught a glimpse out of the cottage window of Elizabeth, a smile on her face, 

her head bent back, eyes squinting, watching the bubbles she blew through the wand fly up

and up

and up

And away.  

And then I was watching too and leaning out the window 

looking up and wondering…

To where…

Today. We spent a hazy August day at the beach and three hours wasn’t enough time for my five year old to catch waves and my three old slithered in the muddy wet sand like a snake and my one year old waded into Lake Michigan like she had been on this earth far longer than a year.

At days end, after an afternoon thunderstorm that had ushered most of Ellison Bay into slowing down, suddenly whoots! And whooshes….and a handful of kids from up the hill were biking down the road full speed and shouting joy and carefree, the happy giggles of being say 9 and 11 and 13 and riding matching white cruisers down the Lakeview hill road after a rain. 

I sat on the porch, wanting to join them, to feel the mist and grit on my legs from the wet road and the thrill and tickle of downhill fast, and then to speak it and shout it out.

Oh man, the good of down!

Back up again and again and again

for the good of down. 

Image here.

Our Summer List

Catch fireflies.

Tally rainbows.

Make ice cream.

Eat ice cream.

Run.

Ride a horse, whenever possible.

Pick strawberries.

Ride our bikes.

Playdates with school friends.

Playdates with mommy and daddy's friends.

Camp in the backyard at the cottage. For practice. 

Fireworks

Parade.

Sand dunes.

Sand castles.

Make time for dates. Cheap ones.

Free ones.

Sit under the moon. 

Together.

Ride a boat.

Fall asleep in the sun.

With sunscreen on.

Put the cell phones away.

Walk through a cornfield.

Don't go too far.

Go to the Zoo.

A lot.

Listen to live music, outdoors.

Dance.

Hike new trails.

Make new trails.

And a fort.

Catch a frog or a turtle.

Visit for a short while.

Butterflies.

Three! Birthday cakes!

Friday night family walks to the playground.

Star gaze.

Saturday morning Farmer's Market breakfasts.

Learn to swim. Once and for all.

That means you.

Backyard bonfire in the City, once a month.

S'mores.

Bonfire at the cottage, every night.

S'mores.

Homemade pizza with our own basil and tomatoes.

Take a train ride.

Host a Lemonade Stand.

Star gaze.

Visit The Farm.

Pretend we live there. 

Cheeseburgers at PC Junction afterwards.*

(*Paid for by the Lemonade Stand.)

Hunt for driftwood. 

Craft Projects twice monthly. 

Get messy.

Star gaze. Some more.

Go to the State Fair.

Send Zoe off to sea.

Promise to throw her a stick any time we find ourselves at the water's edge.

Star gaze again.

Remind ourselves that summer won't last forever.

Find more heart shaped rocks.