Sandra Heska King

daring to open doors

  • Home
  • About
  • DISCLOSURES
    • Amazon Affiliate
    • Book Reviews
  • Published
  • Contact
  • Blog
    • Commit Poetry
    • Dared

i just want summer to last

August 23, 2013 By Sandra Heska King

summer lilleebubblemoment

I’m sitting in a black wrought iron chair on the patio, munching a cream-cheesed cinnamon-raisin bagel. I hadn’t meant to eat a bagel. I’d meant to opt for something more healthy–like scrambled egg whites tossed with spinach and tomatoes and onions. But I’m housebreaking a new puppy, and it’s a grab-and-go day.  (We swore there’d never be another dog–that Rose was the last.)

I set my mug down on the grill shelf. We’ve only used this grill two or three times this year. I’ve never even gotten around to cleaning it, but it’s the only above-concrete surface. The picnic table and benches are in the garage still waiting to be stained.

The green plastic tables are still in the shed. What used to be the herb garden is overgrown with mutant-tall Queen Anne’s Lace, and a garter snake slithers down the edge of the rocks lining it.

The area around the bird feeder’s overgrown, too, with weeds and a couple volunteer sunflowers that tower over the shepherd’s hook. I think a grate hides in there somewhere. It’s where we always mean to have a little camp-style fire on a cool night. The grass needs mowing, the leaves are turning–and I just want summer to last.

The air vibrates with cicada songs and crow caws, with the steady hum of highway  in the background. The grass glistens all dew drenched, and cabbage butterflies skim soybeans.

But the moments, they pass, and I want them to stop. I want this moment–cool morning breeze and sun’s heat rising and puppy chewing my toes–to last.

I just want summer to last.

Wesley scatters sand, bounds after a stray butterfly, and when he comes back with a pinecone, I pick a slug off his wet belly.

And I want his exuberant joy and delight in discovery.

summer weslydigging

summer wesleyattention

summer-wesleyandgrace

summer strikezone

The black-eyed Susans are holding their own, but the daisies are fading, and I just want summer to last.

The other day I retrieve the ball as Grace pitches it at a pink-ribboned “strike zone” on the fence.

And Lillee runs and puckers, and bubbles rise and pop and float away like so many dreams and seasons.

But one stray bubble rests in mosquito bush arms.

 

summer bubblecaught

summer lilleeblowingbubbles

summer bubblenesting

I just want summer to last.

But it will pass in its season because everything has a season, and I’ll be another year older when it returns, maybe, God willing, because all things things of earth will eventually pass away like bubbles in the breeze. So we must carry these moments in the bubbles of our memories.

But I just want summer to last.

summer colorchange

 Still holding onto summer,

Sandy

Joining Lisa-Jo and company on the prompt last–though I’m pretty sure this writing lasted more than five minutes.

Five Minute Friday

Share this:

  • Email
  • Print
  • Facebook
  • Twitter
  • Pinterest

Filed Under: stories and reflections

Comments

  1. Pamela says

    August 23, 2013 at 5:43 pm

    I have the same wish–that summer would last. My daughter goes back to the university a week from Monday and those days side by side cooking, cleaning, talking and just plain old craziness will be gone. Enjoy your last few moments.

    • Sandra Heska King says

      August 24, 2013 at 12:45 am

      Cherish these side-by-side days of crazy and love, Pamela.

  2. Eileen says

    August 23, 2013 at 7:21 pm

    I don’t want summer to end either! Beautiful post.

    • Sandra Heska King says

      August 24, 2013 at 12:30 am

      Thank you, Eileen. Shall we picket autumn? 😉

  3. Martha Orlando says

    August 23, 2013 at 8:57 pm

    Our bubbles . . . the precious ones which expand in response to our gentle breath, transforming miraculously into the large and bulbous ones our grandchild begs for: “Big one, Gammie! Big one!”
    “I’ll try, Virginia!”
    And, sometimes, the summer lasts, and the bubbles grow large, letting us know that, when the season passes, precious memories fill our hearts.
    This post so touched me, Sandy, deeply and truly. Thank you for your inspiration, my friend! Would you mind if I let this comment here be a leaping off point for a future blog? I will, of course, make reference to your blog.
    Thanks and blessings!

    • Sandra Heska King says

      August 24, 2013 at 12:29 am

      Oh, Martha. I’m so glad it touched you. And to know it breathed the bubble of your own blog post makes me smile so big. 🙂

  4. Rosanne says

    August 24, 2013 at 6:44 pm

    Summer seems to speed by quicker every year! I agree with you! I want summer to last too! 🙂 This was beautiful.

  5. Janel says

    August 25, 2013 at 8:58 pm

    first of all, that picture of the bubble stuck in the bush is fascinating. All those pointy parts on the leaves and yet it still stays in form. That is awesome.
    second, like usual I find myself swept up in your writing! Love that little Wesley…aren’t puppies (and little children) so full of discovery and adventure that sometimes we forget exists?! I so hear you about wanting to hold on to moments and yet realizing there is a season for everything. Thank you friend.

  • Email
  • Facebook
  • Flickr
  • Google+
  • Instagram
  • Pinterest
  • RSS
  • Twitter

Meet Sandra

I’m Sandra, a camera-toting, recovering doer who’s learning to be. still. Read more…

Get updates from the stillness by email

Your personal information is safe and will never be shared.

Archives

Categories

Instagram Inspiration

sandraheskaking

Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. N Cutting tonight’s walk short. Stupid blue jay. Not this one. A different one. But still. (My niece believes blue jays are a visitation from Grandma—my mom.) 
My shirt says “Walk in love. But I’m not feeling very loving. And if it WAS my Mom AKA Mother Mary Esther of the Order of Perpetual Birdwatchers, I’ll bet she’s having a good laugh. A passerby said she heard it was good luck and I should buy a lottery ticket tonight. In other news, I also banged my hip bone against our bed’s footboard and gave myself a mighty bruise. Then I burned my arm on the top of the grill. I did manage to wash all the knives without cutting myself and didn’t start any fires. So how was your day?
And now… “From the rising of the sun to the pl And now… “From the rising of the sun to the place where it sets, the name of the Lord is to be praised.”
The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new. The world’s a mess, but His mercies are new.
When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yad When we were in Israel last month, we visited @yadvashem - the World Holocaust Center in Jerusalem. There wasn't enough time to spend nearly enough time. 

The Valley of the Communities was very moving. It's a labyrinth of stone from which there seems no way out. Our guide said It gives an idea of the endlessness of the horror. His parents emigrated from Vilna (the Jerusalem of Lithuania), before the Holocaust. In 1935, thirteen of his family members still remained there. By 1945 only one--an uncle--had survived. He wrote a book about them from a bundle of old letters. "One story out of millions."

"This memorial commemorates the Jewish communities destroyed by Nazi Germany and its collaborators, and the few which suffered but survived in the shadow of the Holocaust."
#Israel2022 #HolocaustRemembranceDay
“From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up a “From my favorite spot on the floor, I look up at the blue sky and the bare chestnut tree on whose branches little raindrops shine, appearing like silver, ” Anne Frank wrote in the Diary of a Young Girl. Watching the tree change through the seasons her family spent in hiding in an attic gave her hope. The Holocaust Memorial Center is one of only eleven sites in the United States to receive a sapling from that tree. I stand at “her” window and imagine hanging hope on a tree.

"It happened, therefore it can happen again: this is the core of what we have to say. It can happen, and it can happen everywhere.” ~ Primo Levi

From a post I wrote for @tspoetry after a visit to the @holocaustcenter.

https://www.tweetspeakpoetry.com/2016/07/27/regional-tour-holocaust-memorial-center-farmington-hills-michigan/
Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterd Stunning tree I parked near at Bible study yesterday. I was in a rush and failed to snap the whole tree. I need to run back before the flowers fall. I think it’s a jacaranda? I want one.
Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this a Speaking of birds... bluejay in my backyard this afternoon. I thought he was hurt, but I think he was just trying to cool off. (Maybe it's a young one.... unless it's the light?)
Someone should do something about that dog. She’ Someone should do something about that dog. She’s yelping and carrying on like she’s in some awful pain.
“Now in the place where he was crucified there w “Now in the place where he was crucified there was a new tomb in which no one had yet been laid.” ~ John 19:41

“But the angel said to the women, ‘Do not be afraid, for I know that you seek Jesus who was crucified. He is not here, for he has risen, as he said. Come, see the place where he lay…’”~ Matthew 28:5-6

Many wonder if this tomb, which lies just a few yards west of Golgotha could be the place where Jesus lay and rose. I wish we could have lingered longer here in this garden and in the tomb itself. It was easier for me to imagine the events of that weekend happening here than in the heavily incensed, decorated, dark and crowded Church of the Holy Sepulchre… though my hairdresser said her old boyfriend “got chills”’when he entered that tomb. We did not go inside that one because the line was way too long. 

At any rate, the most important thing is that he tomb is EMPTY and HE IS RISEN!

HAPPY EASTER!
#Israel2022 #GardenTomb #Easter
 “Peter said to him, ‘Lord, I am ready to g 
“Peter said to him, ‘Lord, I am ready to go with you both to prison and to death’ Jesus said, ‘I tell you, Peter, the rooster will not crow this day until you deny three times that you know me.’” ~ Luke 22:33-34

The Church of St. Peter in Gallicantu (rooster crowing) built over what tradition says was the house of Caiaphas where Jesus was brought after he was arrested. Perhaps he was imprisoned in one of the underground crypts while awaiting trial. 

“On top of the church, higher than the cross—I loved this—stands a golden rooster! I’ll never look at a weathervane the same again. How would you like to have a church commemorate your weakest moment?” ~ Wayne Stiles in Walking in the Footsteps of Jesus

#Israel2022 #GoodFriday
The olive trees here are ancient… some carbon da The olive trees here are ancient… some carbon dates to the 12th century, according to my Eyewitness book on Jerusalem. “DNA tests have shown that eight of the trees grew from cuttings from the same mother tree—perhaps taken by Christians who believed the tree to have witnessed Jesus’s agony.” 

Gethsemane means “olive press.” Jesus was pressed to his very depths that night.  He knew what was ahead. He could have run far away. But he went where he knew Judas would look for him. 

“And he withdrew from them about a stone’s throw, and knelt down and prayed, ‘Father, if you are willing, remove this cup from me. Nevertheless, not my will, but yours, be done.’ And there appeared to him an angel from heaven, strengthening him. And being in agony he prayed more earnestly; and his sweat became like great drops of blood falling down to the ground.” ~ Luke 22:41-44

Garden of Gethsemane and Church of the Nations

#Israel2022
A "blue preacher" right outside my door, nearly as A "blue preacher" right outside my door, nearly as tall as I am. I wonder what he's wondering. Is he finding the answer blowing in the wind?

"Watch, now, how I start the day
in happiness, in kindness." ~ Mary Oliver in "Why I Wake Early"
Food truck night. Food truck night.
Looking east from the Mount of Olives at the Templ Looking east from the Mount of Olives at the Temple Mount and Rock of the Dome. And then the Eastern (Golden) Gate, currently sealed where Jesus might have entered the city after riding down the hill.
Tristram’s starling - named after the Reverend H Tristram’s starling - named after the Reverend Henry Baker Tristram—seen in Masada. #Israel2022
Owl? Owl?
Food truck night and a supper guest. Food truck night and a supper guest.
Been a while since I've posted a gator. This guy ( Been a while since I've posted a gator. This guy (gal?) has been cruising one of our neighborhood lakes the last few days.
Ibex (wild goat) 🐐 “The high mountains belong Ibex (wild goat)
🐐
“The high mountains belong to the wild goats” Psalm 104:18
🐐
David may have hidden from King Saul in this area. If we ever get to go back to Israel, I hope we can explore this this place. On the day we visited, there was concern for flash flooding, so we only got in a few steps.
A crow for @meganwillome #crow #greycrow #israel A crow for @meganwillome  #crow #greycrow #israel #jerusalem
Load More... Follow on Instagram

Get the Mug

Embrace the life you have t s poetry mug

Privacy Policy

Full privacy policy is available HERE.

I Read Light

TSP-Red button

bibledude-net



Sponsor a Child

Join the Compassion Blogger Network

[footer_backtotop]

Copyright © 2022 Sandra Heska King · Site by The Willingham Enterprise, LLC on the Genesis Framework by StudioPress · Log in

loading Cancel
Post was not sent - check your email addresses!
Email check failed, please try again
Sorry, your blog cannot share posts by email.