Solstice in the Pacific Northwest — these are days when we wake to blinding sunlight and 10:00 p.m. feels too early to go to bed.
I managed to capture a morning sky on Monday, but it was even better at 4:30 a.m. How do I know this? I don’t sleep much in the summer. Even with an eye mask and blackout curtains, somehow morning comes and nudges me like a cat wanting its breakfast.
We’re now in a transition. Though we are headed into the heat of the summer, solstice begins the transition to shorter days.
Outside, the garden has shifted gears, too. Though there’s still plenty of weeding to do, I’m spending the bulk of my time harvesting. Strawberries, blueberries, and raspberries are coming in all at once. We’re eating them, freezing them, and sending extras to various neighbors. There are so many berries that I don’t mind if a slug gets a hold of even the biggest, prettiest strawberry.
Yet even as I fill bowls full of strawberries, I see signs of transition. Production is slowing, and a few of the strawberries have a tougher skin, which happens near the end. After a few busy weeks, there will be no more strawberries until late summer, when I get one more round.
My writing projects are in transition as well. What She Knew is officially ready to go to the editor after more than two years of work. While I wait to hear her availability, I am drafting a nonfiction work I’ve pondered for a few years.
I’m also researching 19th century woolen mills, women’s lives, and more for my next novel, which I plan to start in November during NaNoWriMo.
It’s exciting to plan and create new work. I’ve been in revision mode for a very long time, and I love the idea of switching from the tedious examination of every word to just letting ‘er rip.
How’s your summer going? Are you experiencing any transitions?