From brightening fields of ether fair-disclosed, Child of the sun, refulgent Summer comes. James Thomson NOTES FOR THE TRANSITION TO MIDDLE SUMMER THE THIRTY-FIRST WEEK OF THE NATURAL YEAR When Rose of Sharon Blooms in Town And Thistles Turn to Down And Teasel and St. John’s Wort Flower in the Fields

I stood there watching the wind ripple and wave through the grain, a sea of green animated with constant, unceasing movement, swirling about my waist as if alive, following no pattern of movement but waving now this way, now that, filled with an eternal surging restlessness, a great stirring of life. August Derleth, A Sac Prairie Journal

And the world cannot be discovered by a journey of miles, no matter how long, but only by a spiritual journey of one inch, very arduous and humbling and joyful, by which we arrive at the ground at our feet and learn to be at home. Wendell Berry NOTES FOR THE FIRST WEEK OF EARLY SUMMER THE TWENTY-SEVENTH WEEK OF THE NATURAL YEAR

The material thing before you. That is It. Huang-Po (6th Century Zen Master) NOTES FOR THE TRANSITION TO EARLY SUMMER THE TWENTY-SIXTH WEEK OF THE NATURAL YEAR WHEN ROSES REACH FULL BLOOM AND MOCK ORANGE PETALS FALL

Whenever we look in the world of matter and events outside ourselves we find that oscillations and wave motions have a significant, often dominant role. It is not, therefore, astonishing to find that waves play an important part in ourselves also. Archibald Hill NOTES FOR THE THIRD WEEK OF LATE SPRING THE TWENTY-FOURTH WEEK OF THE NATURAL YEAR

When I consider every thing that grows Holds in perfection but a little moment, That this huge stage presenteth nought but shows Whereon the stars in secret influence comment; When I perceive that men as plants increase, Cheered and checked even by the self-same sky, Vaunt in their youthful sap, at height decrease,

 

Surely there is a great Word being put together here. I begin to hear it gather in the opening of the flowers and the leafing-out of the trees, in the growth of bird nests in the crotches of the branches, in the settling of the dead leaves into the ground, in the whittling of beetle and grub, in my thoughts,