Lord: it is time.
The summer was immense.
Let fall your shadows on the sundials,
upon the fields let loose your winds.
Command the last fruits to be full;
give them just two more southern days,
Press them to completion, and chase the last
sweetness into the heavy wine.
Who has no house now – he will never build.
Whoever is alone now, long will so remain;
will stay awake, and read, and write long letters
and wander the alleys up and down,
restless, as the leaves are drifting.
~Rainer Maria Rilke
As summer slowly winds down over the next few days, fatigue is settling like a fog over all things. After months of immense energy and growth and flourish and heat, there is now weariness and dryness and wilting.
A good rain yesterday helped ready us for the change. We who are thirsty had a good slurp and still beg for more. Restless, we are loosening like tired leaves, preparing to lose our grip and be freed to drift, landing softly wherever the next breeze will take us.
Support for the Barnstorming Blog
To keep this blog ad-free, your support is most appreciated.