Summer is a season of fullness. It invites both play and rest. Creation and incubation. Exploration and retreat. Wildness and cultivation. Journeys and homecomings. It’s a season expansive enough to hold all of these ebbing and flowing rhythms. I’ve noticed that it gets very quiet in our yard in the afternoon. Birds, bunnies, and squirrels honor the need to forage and play in the cooler hours, while seeking shade and stillness in the heat of mid-day. They tune into their innate wisdom, following their summer rhythms and retreating as a form of self care.
In the spirit of rhythms and self care, I have been contemplating a seasonal sanctuary—a place inspired by wisdom from the natural world and our wisdom within. A space that honors the rhythms of this season as well as our needs and desires. A haven that restores the body. And a harbor of inner hospitality that sustains the heart. This may be an actual location or an imaginary, metaphorical space. Or perhaps a combination of both.
When I envision my summer sanctuary, there is flowing water, shade trees, and the softness of the evening as the sun rests on the horizon. There is respite from suburban noise. There are life giving books, a blank journal, and my favorite pen. A bowl of freshly picked blueberries is close at hand. In this dwelling, I savor the quiet and listen to the voice within. Wildflowers grow freely here, bordering this half-real, half-imagined sanctum of wild peace.
As you ponder your summer sanctuary consider what nourishes body and spirit as well as your natural rhythms. You may want to use the prompts below to explore these ideas through writing or imagery such as a collage, sketch, or watercolor.
A Summer Sanctuary
I imagine . . . (a place in nature, a landscape, or an imaginary space)
With scents of . . .
Sounds of . . .
Textures of . . .
Surrounded by . . .
I am nourished in this space by . . .
A place where I . . .
This season invites . . .
My sanctuary welcomes . . .
My hope is that you will seek out restorative places, find pockets of sanctuary throughout your day, and honor the ebbs and flows as you embrace all the hues of summer.
May This Be a Place by Stacey M. Hayes
May this be a place of respite when you are weary, Inspiration when you are stuck, Calm when there is chaos. A place of quenching coolness and inner warmth. A space to reflect, dream, and create. May you find peace and delight here. May this be a place of embrace that lovingly holds all that you are.
Summer can be hot, dry, and stagnant here in North Carolina. The contrast of cool water reminds me of how elemental and essential water is to both our bodies and souls.
The quenching rainfall after the monotony of hot, dry days. The mist off a beautiful waterfall. Putting your feet in the cool flowing water and feeling the river rocks of a mountain creek. And, of course, walking along the threshold of sand and sea at the beach.
All of these experiences replenish my body and nourish my spirit. The cool touch of water on my skin, the sound of running water to my ears, and the flow of water shift my inner rhythms. What was once still and stagnant now has movement.
Sometimes the soul’s remedy is simply flowing water.
Each of us is drawn to particular elements and landscapes that soothe or speak to us in perhaps sacred ways. For me it has always been the water. As a child, I was drawn to the sea and would crawl to the shoreline before I could walk.
When I’m in the mountains, I seek out waterfalls. And when I’m in the woods, I get giddy when I find a small creek or stream.
Water’s Invitation
We can explore more deeply the wisdom and wonder of water with our heads, hands and heart.
When you are feeling parched, stagnant, or disheartened, I invite you to seek the water’s edge—this could be a lake, a creek, a waterfall, or beach. Or a puddle after rain.
Be in this space however you’d like—maybe it’s sitting, walking, observing, or playing. Maybe it’s a “dip your toe in” experience or a deep dive.
What do you notice about your external environment?
Does anything shift for you internally? What thoughts, memories or feelings arise? Maybe you are soothed or energized.
Does the water whisper any wisdom to you?
Feel free to write down any thoughts.
You may even want to create art …
Perhaps by exploring the shades of blue or green in the water with crayons, pastels or watercolors.
Or taking a photo.
Or sketching a flora or fauna you encounter while there.
Or creating an image that represents the way you feel at the water’s edge.
If you are inclined, take a moment to offer gratitude for the water. You may be moved to write a hope or blessing for it.
I offer thanks to the quenching water for earth’s creatures and flora. I am eternally grateful for the way flowing water buoys my soul. May we treat this precious natural resource with wisdom, kindness and tenderness.
“To stand at the edge of the sea, to sense the ebb and flow of the tides, to feel the breath of a mist moving over a great salt marsh, to watch the flight of shore birds that have swept up and down the surf lines of the continents for untold thousands of years…is to have knowledge of things that are as nearly eternal as any earthly life can be.”
I looked out the window after my son had fallen asleep. It looked as if someone left a light on outside — the entire backyard seemed to glow. I went on our deck and looked up. Looking down on me was a nearly full moon with several glowing halos…projecting a moonbeam onto our yard. I had not been aware of the moon lately. It was reminding me that it was still there with its reliable rhythms.
Then, I looked up at the tree canopy at the edge of the woods. The tops of the trees flickered with staccato flashes of light. The fireflies were making their silent song…rhythmic, beautiful, captivating. I savor these lights as I taste their loss, knowing they are here for a short time.
Awakening me from my trance of the fireflies were moths fluttering about my head and then landing on a blossom that is purple by day and a mystery by night.
Mostly hidden in waking hours, moths are revealed in the illumination of a summer night. I am accustomed to bees and butterflies frequenting this bush in the daytime; a new world is revealed in the darkness. These flowers belong to moths too — the winged angels of the night, oft unseen and forgotten.
How could I have imagined that all this wonder and mystery unfolds each night out my back door? With just a window separating me from this magical natural world.
Step outside in the magic of summer nights and what you will find is:
wonder illumination mystery
Anticipation & Lamentation
It is always this time of year — in June — when I start looking for them. At dusk, I gaze into the backyard with child-like wonder and anticipation that they will be there. Hoping for just one flash, one spark.
Yes, there it is! The fireflies are here.
I have since learned that they have been living here all along. For one to two years, in fact, as larvae. They watched the leaves fall to the ground in autumn. They felt the chilly weather, the frost, and even the snow in winter. And they witnessed, just as I did, bulbs shoot forth through the ground and bloom in the spring.
I treasure them. I cherish them. Oh, how I am thankful for them.
And now, the weather is warm and humid. It is their time. They are no longer larvae living under the earth and leaf litter — eating worms and slugs and snails and such. They are here to light up the meadows, the understory of the forest, and the canopy of trees.
It is their time to shine. To illuminate. To light the way.
And if you don’t look out at dark, you will miss their invitation.
They call out to each other and to those who trust in their mystery.
“Don’t miss us,” these luminaries beckon with their silent song. “Cherish us, care for us, and let us remind you of the spark that illuminates within yourself.”
They are here for a brief time. When their flickering light-up beings go dark, I always lament their absence.
But I remind myself that their eggs….then a few weeks later their larvae are with me — waiting with me for another summer.
You, the Luminary
Fireflies are a keystone of summer nights. They remind us there is magic. They illuminate our hope in ourselves. They harken back to a memory sealed from our younger years.
What has been illuminated for you lately?
What needs to be illuminated or revealed? Sometimes you are the light for someone. Sometimes you shine the light on something – a creature, a habitat, a place – that needs your voice.
Fireflies live in community. Their many lights come together to illuminate, sometimes in synchronicity. Many times, illuminating a truth or shining light on a mystery requires a village, a community. What community or support may you rely upon?
What glows within yourself? Embrace the truth that you, also, have a spark that illuminates.
You, too, are a luminary.
Luminary: 1. a person who inspires or influences others. 2. A natural light giving body. (Definition from OxfordLanguages)
Illuminate: Moonbeams, Moths & Fireflies
I went out at night. The moonbeam was bright. The crickets chirped a sound that has not been heard for many moons. There was an absence of cicadas’ hum. The fireflies lit up the trees’ silhouettes against the dark sky. Their silent song underscored the beauty of their dancing lights. The moths, winged angels of the night, fluttered about my head. So much mystery was illuminated when I stepped outside my backdoor on that weekday night.
~ Stacey Hayes~
How to Nurture Fireflies
Minimize artificial light at night. (This also helps many other nocturnal mammals and insects such as bats and moths…as well as migrating birds).
Keep some tall grassy areas and plants, as female fireflies rest in these.
Leave leaf litter and natural areas since firefly larvae live there for 1-2 years in their larval stage.
Avoid pesticides in your yard. Spraying for mosquitoes negatively impacts fireflies.
Did you know that fireflies are actually beetles and that their glow is created through bioluminescence?
