Last June Evening, First July Morn

Something called me to St. Wenceslaus last night, after dinner was over and I’d hung laundry out on the line. (It will finish drying today.) It must have been the light. Everything was peaceful in the lengthening shadows of the last evening in June.


All were peacefully sleeping, whether under markers ornate or plain...



Whether under a small garden or simply beneath the grass.



Images wrought in iron assisted a contemplative attitude.


This morning a different impulse called me to Leelanau Township’s Peterson Park, where Lake Michigan was as blue as blue can be, drenching the horizon.



Among rounded rocks still in the shadow of the bluffs, the black ones seemed to hold onto their dewy moisture.


One rock looked like a beautiful egg from outer space.


The cracked ones seemed sad until I reflected that the waves would smooth them until they seemed wholes, not parts.


Another seemed to be the morning sun greeter.


I placed one rock atop another as my thank-you to the beach.


Gravity is the culprit, making the stairs seem longer on the way back up. Young Sarah was not at all out of breath. She would not have paused for pictures without my command.




We had our early walk/run on the beach, did our errands in town, and then our bookstore day began, with a brand-new OPEN flag to match the flowers in the windowbox.