Seven days of June 2018? Where have they gone?
Gladys Taber says it best:
"I expect we should not like a world of nothing but June... But it would take a long time. Thirty days is a very small amount for June."
I always think of Gladys when greeting lovely gentle June mornings, or when walking outside in my own garden in the June dusk. She loved June days and so do I.
And there is the fact that more brides and grooms choose June for their wedding day than any other month. At least I guess that's true. I'm not going to waste precious June moments googling that fact.
I didn't always treasure June days though.
In Stillmeadow and Sugarbridge, which is the book of letters between Gladys and her friend Barbara Webster (an author herself and wife of Gladys's illustrator), Barbara says that "It takes a store of years to realize how good a day in June can be."
I think she's probably right, although I have hopes that there are some 20-somethings who appreciate a June morning as much as I do, with my "store of years."
Just like Gladys, sometimes the beauty around me seems almost more than one soul can bear without crying or laughing or dancing with abandon.
Birds are a big part of my June joy. I think I love birds more now than ever before, their song, their flight, the sand baths they take with such gusto, their courting antics, everything really. Their pure enjoyment in just being a bird.
That's what I wish for during the next 23 days of June, for me and for anyone reading this.
To live with gusto every single day of June, even if it's just a normal day in a comfortable rut--my very favorite kind of day of all.
I'm going to go unload the dishwasher now, with gusto, as I watch what's going on outside my kitchen window in the wonderful world of birds...and two dachshunds chasing that pesky chipmunk.
I must chirp out a thank you to my photographer here, to RH, who has taught me to love the birds over five decades of marriage because he loves them.
