I read this today --thought it was good --thought I'd share:
From Guideposts Magazine August 2005 by Edward Grinnan - Editor-in-Chief:
Here we are in the hot heart of summer. I love thinking about our country in August--thinking about all those family reunions from Juncan to Jupiter Island, folks seeing one another for the first time in ages, maybe for the first time ever and maybe even for the last. I love thinking about those checkered picnic cloths spread across freshly mown grass,, baskets of secret-recipe fried chicken and tubs of Wilma's potato salad or Uncle Louie's ziti anchoring them against the stubborn breeze. And how many sand castles and mud forts will rise up only to be swept away by the heartless tide? Or a big wet dog shaking off a gallon of muddy lake water all over some heliotropic sunbather (who probably needed to cool off). Miniature golf, roadside tacos, soft serve ice cream and freezing cold movie theaters that reek of popcorn when the weather keeps you indoors and you've played all the board games in the closet. Or a baseball arcing through the sky like a satellite while an 11-year-old who's too small for his uniform circles uncertainly beneath it. Dear Lord, please let him catch it! And he does. Barely. While you clap so hard your hands sting.
The sun goes down late...though a little earlier each night, you notice. And there's just the barest chill in the air later when you blow out the citronella candles and bring the lawn chairs in. Always each season contains the suggestion of the next. And maybe you lie in bed and listen to the crickets or the rumbling of distant thunder (or was that just my stomach?) and think about how good it is--how holy, almost--just to be still.