To Summer and to Crosswinds

To Summer by William Blake

"O thou who passest thro' our valleys in

Thy strength, curb thy fierce steeds, allay the heat

That flames from their large nostrils! thou, O Summer,

Oft pitched'st here thy goldent tent, and oft

Beneath our oaks hast slept, while we beheld

With joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair.

Beneath our thickest shades we oft have heard

Thy voice, when noon upon his fervid car

Rode o'er the deep of heaven; beside our springs

Sit down, and in our mossy valleys, on

Some bank beside a river clear, throw thy

Silk draperies off, and rush into the stream:

Our valleys love the Summer in his pride.

Our bards are fam'd who strike the silver wire:

Our youth are bolder than the southern swains:

Our maidens fairer in the sprightly dance:

We lack not songs, nor instruments of joy,

Nor echoes sweet, nor waters clear as heaven,

Nor laurel wreaths against the sultry heat."

This summer was hot, long, humid, fast, exploratory, different, robust, dull, and all sorts of other contradictions. I don't quite know what to make of it yet...it still seems like a vast whirlwind. But the two highlights of the summer were going home, and upon our return going to the Poconos in Pennsylvania over Labor Day weekend. Whatever the rest of the summer was, these four days were deliciously slow and enjoyable. Our friends at the Seminary, Becca and Matt Puffer, invited a group of us to stay at Becca's family vacation home - Crosswinds. And it was PERFECT. The home was old and large and charming; there was plenty of space inside to eat and play games and sit by the fire and drink. And there was plenty of porch space outside to lounge on wicker chairs or the porch swing or the hammock. The dock on the lake provided rays of sunshine and a launch pad for swimming, rowing, kayaking, and lounging on the mega station.

Matt and Becca had the weekend planned out so well - they had prepared a food menu for the weekend and had done all the grocery shopping beforehand. So we were well stocked with delicious and fresh food to feast upon. Blake's poem above made me think of this weekend - "with joy thy ruddy limbs and flourishing hair." We all had ruddy limbs and flourishing hair after having been lavished by summer's lazy and opulent rays all weekend. It was glorious.



Matt, Adam, James and Matt sternly focused on a game of bocce golf, while Kristine, Becca, me and Alison pose after our rather whistful game of croquet.

James, Alison, and Becca focused on words.






Lounging on the Mega Station!