Small and Quiet

(Image credit: Apartment Therapy)

Pink Pearl Apples

This is the weekend of summer’s end, the last roar of the golden lion before the autumn routine sweeps in and tames his fire. All around me, the energy is bright and active as people scurry out to catch the last few drops of sunshine, rushing to squeeze in all the summertime things: picnics and backyard grilling and impulsive leaps off of the pier into a still warm lake. All this vitality and celebration is quite wonderful but I’m not feeling it as I gently tilt my shutters against the sun and turn off my cellphone. I’m a bit out of step, but this weekend I’m feeling low-key and want a scaled down, less brightly lit universe. Small and quiet.

So instead of firing up the grill and hauling the last bushel of corn home from the market, I’m puttering around my kitchen making simple things: a bowl of cold soba for lunch followed by an apple, an early Pink Pearl found at the market yesterday — crisp, tart and astonishingly beautiful. A friend is coming for dinner and I vaguely plot a meal of effortless things like a wedge of cheese, some figs, a few rounds of dried sausage. Nothing fancy or original, but still delicious and satisfying.

I feel myself wanting to protect this quiet time, to enjoy it and drink deep from it. So ignoring the stack of empty canning jars and the list of garden chores, I grab another apple and leave the kitchen and head for the couch. I pass the pile of laundry spilling out of the closet with barely a glance. It will all get done, eventually. For the rest of the day, there is a book to read and maybe a brief wander around the block to keep the blood moving. Soon even this computer will get turned off and my small and quiet universe will become even smaller, and quieter. So long summer.

I hope that whatever your summer’s end weekend looks like, that it refreshes and renews and gives you what you need to meet your life with eyes and arms wide open. Be it the lion’s roar or a favorite book read in a quiet, half-lit room, may you find contentment and celebration and something delicious to sustain you through the wonders and challenges ahead.

(Image: Dana Velden)