A Slow-Living Summer

It’s now high summer, and it is hot. The woods are full and lush and green. The gardens are large and being harvested. Baby fawns and fledgling birds are everywhere. Life feels slow and lazy in the best way.

While taking a walk in the cottage woods one humid, sweltering morning, I thought to myself, “This is summer.” Then I wondered what exactly does “summer” mean to me? I looked around me, at all the plants and trees and birds, and thought, “This. This is what summer means to me.”

For as long as I can remember, summer has meant being outdoors almost 24/7, exploring and absorbing everything the long, hot days have to offer. Everything has finally, fully come to life, and so have I. This is a time when I’m itching to explore; sometimes on a bike ride down the local rail trail. Sometimes hiking and geocaching with friends. In the past few years, kayaking down the river or in a reservoir. Always cooling off in the pool afterwards, the perfect refresher after working up a sweat. Also always going to the local farm stand and eating nourishing meals with fresh, local produce. Sometimes relaxing in a lawn chair or my hammock, watching the clouds go by, and, if I’m at the cottage, waving to the small planes flying above, from the small recreational airport the town over. As the sun moves around the cottage, I’ll move from deck to deck to stay in the shade (the back deck during the day, the front deck in the cooler evening, and the upper deck off my old bedroom at night before going to bed).

When partaking in all these activities, I love seeing and hearing all the wildlife around me, busy with their summer activities, too. During the day, cicadas are chirping and buzzing, filling the hot, humid space with their sound. At night, tree frogs croak, their chorus lulling the neighborhood to sleep. If I can stay awake, I’ll watch the lightning bugs twinkle like starlight, illuminating dark nights and bringing magic to every corner of the yard. When I was younger, I’d dance among them, catching them on my fingers and giving them all names, pretending they were fairies. On the most humid nights, I’ll watch the heat-lightning light up the skies above. At the apartment, which sits on top of a hill, we recently had an amazing view of heat-lightning in the distance, bolts and flashes in every direction!

In the woods and on the river at the cottage, there is so much wildlife. Trout jump out of the water, catching flies, and when we glide by in the kayaks, we pass families of ducks and mergansers, herons, and the occasional turtle. Last summer, Peter and I came across an underwater spring, with several streams of water jetting up under the river, creating bubbles and patterns in this secret pool. I wondered if the lightning bug fairies came here sometimes for a swim, and if they enjoyed the musky smell of the river and woods as much as I do.

In the foraging realm, this is peak berry season. The wild blackberries and wineberries that I mentioned in my last post are in peak ripeness, and so refreshing in this crazy summer heat. In fact, as I type this, I’m snacking on some wineberries I foraged yesterday! After work, I decided to stop by a local park in hopes of finding some wineberries, and did this park provide! There were so many brambles of wineberries throughout the entire park, many in accessible areas where it was clear others had already foraged. Over a couple trips, I filled one-and-a-half large Tupperware containers with berries, which I then used for baking a chocolate wineberry tart (though many wineberries were also just snacked upon)! More on that at the end of the post.

As for the blackberries: in the woods behind the cottage by the river, there are hundreds of wild blackberry bushes. In the spring, they burst to life with flowers, as far as the eye can see. They are so abundant, it’s like being in a sea of breathtaking flowers, and the bees buzz all around, filling the air with their song. It’s the most magical, fairytale-like experience. In the summer, the flowers drop off and little berries come in, starting green and small, then growing in size before turning red and then black. In the heat of high summer days, I enjoy taking my time picking the berries and listening to the birds or watching rabbits hop by. The berries’ juicy tartness is the perfect refresher after an afternoon scorching in the sun, and leftover berries are great in baking and smoothies.

These abundant gifts from Mother Nature astound me, always leaving me grateful and in awe. I still can’t wrap my head around the fact that these berries, literally HUNDREDS of berries, have been growing so prolifically in our backyard my whole life, and yet we never knew because my dad hadn’t blazed a trail until 2020. A secret fairy wonderland, hidden in plain sight, for who knows how long. I feel blessed and lucky to now know it intimately, and wonder how many other secret wild oases are out there. Most importantly, this magical place reminds me that Mother Nature will provide and care for us, if we care for her in return. Nature is our Home, we are a part of it, just as much as the animals and plants and berries are. When you remember this, there’s no better feeling in the world.

When not foraging, I’m tending to the garden, also at its peak. Talking to my plants as I water them and harvest, I relish the kinship and bonds forming, and thank them for their gifts. My favorite gift is the chamomile, which I enjoy brewing in a cup of tea at night, which I sip while watching the stars and lightning bugs. Sometimes, in the hottest of heatwaves, I’ll swim at night at the cottage under the full moon.

Summer is perhaps the best time of year to enjoy everything Mother Nature is, as she’s at her peak and so fully awake. While I know this is merely a moment in the cycle, and that the other seasons have their beauty and special gifts too, I do yearn for summer to last, trying to take advantage of every moment I can. I guess that’s just part of summer’s energy. While I do fill this season with activity, all these activities involve embracing nature, taking it slow, relaxing, enjoying the moment and observing all that is alive around me. In the kayak, on the trail, on the bike, in the pool, in a hammock — I fully embrace each moment with intention and a slow-paced mindset. It’s slow-living and cottage living at its finest.

As always, I’ll close this post out with a list of other summer happenings and pictures. Feel free to comment what your summer’s been like so far — I’d love to know, what does summer mean to you?

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Other happenings and musings from the summer:

• As mentioned above, I used most of the wineberries I picked for a chocolate wineberry tart! I looked up several wineberry-specific recipes but none spoke to me, so I took a chocolate raspberry tart recipe and replaced the raspberries with wineberries. The recipe also called for a layer of raspberry jam, but instead I made a layer of smashed wineberries, and it was delicious! I’ll definitely be making it again next season. I also tried a wineberry smash, but found I like the flavor of raspberry smashes better. With the blackberries, I hope to make a pie, and Peter is going to make a sour beer with the blackberries as well!

• The balcony garden and community garden plot have grown so large and are producing well, better than I expected because of the late start! The lemon basil has been growing like crazy; no matter how many times I trim it back, it keeps getting bigger and bushier! So I’ve begun the process of drying herbs for our winter pantry. I dried two small containers of lemon basil and a mason jar of cornflowers. I’m not sure what to use the cornflowers for yet — either as sprinkles or for some kind of bath product. In addition, I’m finally harvesting zucchini, and I’m so proud of how they’ve turned out, even though my plants are smaller than others in other plots! The tomatoes and peppers are growing but not yet ripe, and beans are starting to appear on the bushes. On the downside, the nasturtiums on the balcony have become a sacrifice to the aphids, though they still have some lovely blooms. Our lettuce also bolted, though I can’t complain, because it was producing so well for several months! There’s a season for everything, after all.

• At the cottage, the birdhouses are buzzing with activity. The bluebirds and wrens are flying back and forth between their respective houses, feeding the baby birds that I can hear chirping inside. Every so often, I see a little head pop out of the bluebird box, a baby searching for his mom and the food she will bring!
• ‘Tis the season for 4-H and county fairs! Peter and I went to the county fair that I always went to as a child, and it was extra fun and interesting as an adult, now that I have a new-found appreciation for farming and gardening.
• For about a year now, I’ve been attending CapriCora Astrology’s virtual full moon yoga classes and new moon meditations. This summer, she’s doing them in-person at Twin Goat Farm, and I attended a yoga class for the (first of two!) August supermoon(s). Practicing in-person on such a gorgeous, serene farm, surrounded by chickens, cats, and goats, was an amazing and grounding experience. I felt strongly connected to the land and stars by the end of the evening. If you’re local, Cora has a few more classes left this summer, so make sure to sign up!

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