In September, I feel the need to savor every swim. Will it be the last of the summer? Is this the last of the warm, blue sky days, when I can follow my fur children down the road to the lake and dive in?
So, today, I ignore the still sore hip muscle I pulled on Monday, and my back twinge from picking pears, and tAmerican myself off to swim.
It’s so easy to forget to be grateful. So many distractions tear at our attention. And then the illness or death of a friend reminds us: we’re only here for such a short time. And the world really is such a beautiful place.
Floating on my back in the water, whose temperature is growing noticeably autumnal on this sunny day, I look up at the trees and give thanks that the maple leaves persist in greenly celebrating summer. The sky glows deep blue behind and above the trees, and I think of my favorite poem. I’m not a huge poetry lover, nor am I religious by any stretch, but this one always gets me:
i thank You God for most this amazing
day: for the leaping greenly spirits of trees
and a blue true dream of sky; and for everything
which is natural which is infinite which is yes
(i who have died am alive again today,
and this is the sun’s birthday; this is the birth
day of life and of love and wings: and of the gay
great happening illimitably earth)
how should tasting touching hearing seeing
breathing any–lifted from the no
of all nothing–human merely being
doubt unimaginable You?
(now the ears of my ears awake and
now the eyes of my eyes are opened)