is the whole point and purpose of summer,
time by the armful,
time heaped up and overflowing,
the way it was when we were younger
and schools closed down in June,
revealing an expanse of time
in front of us
like a tree-lined allée
into forever.
And it takes time
just to get used to time,
to adjust our rhythms.
Slow the pulse.
Summer is cumulative
and needs to pile up,
attain a certain mass,
at which point
the days stop being days
and melt together to become a place,
a self-contained,
motionless country
wholly set apart from time
and containing within its boundaries
all summers past and future.
-Barbara Holland, Endangered Pleasures
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| Rosy-Fingered, Englishman Bay 6x6", acrylic on canvas board landscape 2015 |
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