June: The Long Arc Of The Year

• Posted on 16 June 2022
• 0

Our prophet John Steinbeck said: "In early June the world of leaf and blade and flowers explodes and every sunset is different".

Something about June has a giddy off to the races feeling. As if the previous months of chill and mud and hunched shoulders against big winds and blergh vibes were all just a rick-tick-tick ascent up that first big rollercoaster hill, climbing necessarily until you get to the top, getting hit with a blast of sunshine, and then WHOOSH, down the hill in a thrilling rush of leaf and blade and flower and sunsets in which the very air opens its arms to you and beckons you: come outside, come outside, come outside!

This time of year when we feel the siren's call of the outdoors, a summoning of our bodies, hearts, and minds out to the lush air and grass and sustenance to be found under the stars—the glorious full Madame Moon bobbing along overhead like a carrot on a stick—we often have to remind ourselves that this is a real feeling. Yes, we want to get outside because it is nice to be outside. But our bodies (whether we remember it or not) are also actually attuned to the ebb and flow of the great mystical forces of the spinning universe. Consider: Our very real physical connection to the seasons is just as certain as gravity, it's just that—among the noise, beeps, boops, and relentless insideness of our worlds—it's easier for us to forget about it. Perceive: like the blossoming morning glory, the tides, or the honeybee in her hive: when the day gets long, as it does about now, we are made to unfurl, to rise higher than usual, and make as much of a buzz as possible. 

Observe: we are talking about the Summer Solstice, which arrives in a few days—as it always does—in a soft golden-pink 9pm gloaming, studded with fireflies, and rich with the possibility of ritualized celebration. Perhaps, like Lisa's granddaughters/Anna's nieces—deeply attuned and, in the blessed way of all children, as-yet-unprogrammed to erect barriers to wonder—you might celebrate this seasonal apex by making a gathered mandala. Or, perhaps you might celebrate by just taking your dinner outside. Receive: all rituals of delight and intention are two sides of the same coin.

June's share is about the ease of taking your wonder al fresco. From the farm you'll be getting eggs (and instructions on deviling them), rhubarb (and instructions for pickling and/or tippling), and more, from the shop you'll be getting Anna's favorites for putting on a nice spread (handblown glass for sparkly evening light, an enamel tray to bake or serve, beautiful guest soaps, and handmade rainbow flags from her stash of vintage fabrics). In short: supplies for feeding your precious body in a way that feeds your precious soul, or, for the pragmatist, supplies for taking your outdoor entertaining up a notch. To everything there is a season.