The Longest Day

We are fast approaching the longest day of the year in this Northern Hemisphere.  Daylight/sunshine is precious for reasons almost too numerous to list; such as, reasons related to vegetation; reasons related to food; reasons related to bone health to mental health and on and on.  Energy from the sun is essential for life on our planet.

The saints will tell us that we all have an inner diamond, which, in order to be fully itself the diamond must absorb as much light as is possible.

Do you have plans for this longest day of 2025?  Or would you rather just be surprised by how your summer solstice day unfolds? 

Mary Oliver has written the following poem entitled “The Summer Day” which might inspire your plans/or not for the way you spend the longest day of this year.

The Summer Day

Who made the world?
Who made the swan, and the black bear?
Who made the grasshopper?
This grasshopper, I mean —
the one who has flung herself out of the grass,
the one who is eating sugar out of my hand,
who is moving her jaws back and forth instead of up and down —
who is gazing around with her enormous and complicated eyes.
Now she lifts her pale forearms and thoroughly washes her face.
Now she snaps her wings open, and floats away.
I don't know exactly what a prayer is.
I do know how to pay attention, how to fall down
into the grass, how to kneel down in the grass,
how to be idle and blessed, how to stroll through the fields,
which is what I have been doing all day.
Tell me, what else should I have done?
Doesn't everything die at last, and too soon?
Tell me, what is it you plan to do
with your one wild and precious life?

-Mary Oliver

Blog by Sister Elaine Cole

Image: Rajiv Bajaj/Unsplash

Here Comes Summer

The calendar announces, “Two weeks until summer”, but I’m sure it’s already here.  The early rising sun peaks in my window at six a.m., beckoning me to go for a morning walk.  The birds are chirping in the leafy trees.  Squirrels and chipmunks are jet-propelled as they scamper from tree to tree and best of all, we are having our first outdoor barbecue of the season at noon today!  Pull on the well-worn straw hats, slap on some sunscreen, don’t forget your sunglasses.  Head toward the beautiful, enclosed garden, lured by the sizzling aroma of burgers on the grill.  We’ve been waiting for this summer ritual for months.

Last year, whenever a barbecue sign was posted, it always ended with, “in the dining room”. Rain prevented our backyard party every time.  Today will be different; yesterday’s sunny hours said so.

This morning, here I am, preparing to head for our first summer cookout.  I pull back the curtains and survey my kingdom.  What’s this I see? Heavy clouds fill the sky.  I run to check the sign.  There I read the fatal words, “in the dining room”.  Foiled again.  Guess I’ll have to wait until summer begins.

-Sister Jean Moylan, csj

A Contemplative Moment

Early this summer, our senior family members were invited to my brother and sister-in-law’s home to meet their first grandchild. She was born during the pandemic and few of us had the privilege of meeting her. On this special day, she was almost two years old and made her entrance in her mother’s arms following an afternoon nap.  She stayed close to her parents until she felt safe enough to wander around the large deck and meet the gang.

We enjoyed a wonderful July afternoon sipping cool drinks and catching up with family happenings. We watched with pride as the birthday girl opened her gifts: storybooks which she loves and a fluffy pale blue bunny that can no doubt be found in her crib these days.

Following a delicious summer supper, we continued to relax under the two large awnings.  Suddenly the sky became overcast, there was a thunderclap and rain began to sprinkle the deck.  Our little girl quietly stepped into the space between the awnings and opened her tiny hands to receive the falling drops.  All was silent as we watched the scene unfolding before us.  Obviously, this child in her pretty blue dress was experiencing a new and deep awareness of a special part of nature.  There she continued to stand, perfectly still, contemplating the raindrops meeting her being.

Image: Unsplash/Mike Kotsch

The rain fell slowly at first and then with increasing intensity until it suddenly poured.  She laughed and ran for shelter and her waiting grandpa. Suddenly, I realized that we had witnessed a profound contemplative moment, seen through the eyes of a child.

How much we take for granted in the everyday wonders of our world:  the beauty of summer, the change of seasons, the force of nature, a sudden cloudburst and the miracle of life and love portrayed in the blessing of our newest little family member.

-Sister Jean Moylan, csj

Lingering Summer Days

Linger in the Leisure of these fading summer days…

Image: Unsplash/Jake Givens

We have reached the mid part of the month of August.  And if you have watched the TV ads or been in the mall shopping all the messaging seems to be saying Summer is over and we should be preparing for the Fall.  There is some truth to this sentiment, but I would rather pull myself back from those messages and live these last weeks of summer as fully as I can.

Image: Unsplash/Marten Bjork

Often our conversation about weather, from September through to May, seems to focus on our longing for summer.  Now that we here, I am going to declare that the work of fall can wait, and I am going to linger in the leisure of these last weeks of August.  When I turn the calendar page to September, I will then turn my thoughts to more serious matters, but for now, it is still officially summer.  Let’s enjoy these sunny days, and evenings and give thanks for the wonderful creativity of God who extends the hours of daylight to help us enjoy longer days and evenings, on our back porch, or walking down a wooded lane, by the lake, or over a cup a tea with a good friend.  Stay in the present moment as much and you can.

-Sister Joan Atkinson, CSJ 

Title Image: Unsplash/Etienne Girardet