August continues her stretch of glory, with temperatures that have cooled down slightly, and blessedly, because as much as we love summer, a heatwave has its limits. This last week was glorious – low 80’s, lower humidity, and just as much sun. May we make this a habit through the end of the year… on with the weekly recap.

Downtown Albany was on floral fire.

The annual under-appreciated hosta post, to be repeated until we all appreciate the hosta. 

There simply wasn’t enough time to stop this unpretty mess from happening. I tried. I really tried. The heat was just too much.

A fantastical ball scene, for those of us who love a good ball or two. 

When Sharon shines she truly shines, and Sharon was shining this week. 

The great cherry tomato harvest continues in earnest. 

Unfiltered glory of the morning. It’s that time of the year, whether we like it or not. 

A visitor all abuzz, reaching the uppermost heights of the garden, where the sunny orbs of the cup plant kiss the sunny orb of the sun. 

In another section of sky, a peek of a rainbow, a promise of forgiveness, a piece of pretty. 

Looking back, toga-style. 

Happy Gay Uncles Day (times three)!!!

The lone Dazzler of the Day was Robin De Jesus, and he was dazzling enough for all the days. 

Seldom do I venture into the deep look back, the preference for nostalgia, the idea of recapturing one’s youth – choosing instead to gaze steadfastly and intently forward, to everything that is ahead and to come. Looking back slows the mental momentum required to keep going. Some days, momentum is all I have to muster. 

Such was the case the other night as I was beginning the promotional planning for the 20th anniversary of this wacky website next year. I found myself lost in figuring out how to encapsulate two decades of life, and a life often-well-documented. That’s a long stretch of time, and part of me wanted to chuck it all and start completely over, the way I did in the early days of this site. 

Now, there are too many archives and memories – and while there was a time when all I needed for memories was to make them, today I need documentation and visual aids to help with keeping them. Looking back is an arduous task sometimes, and we’ve only just begun… 

“Why are there so many songs about rainbows, and what’s on the other side?”

Whenever I see a rainbow – or even the hint of a rainbow as seen in the sky here – I think of this song, and my heart feels a little fuller. Fuller from happiness, fuller from hope, and fuller, yes, from a tinge of sadness. It happened as I was making a few errands last week. Picking up some items for the twins and our next adventure, I was pulling into a parking lot (the sky is always best seen from a parking lot) when I spied this little rainbow peeking through the clouds. The day had been wild with storms and uncertainty, the kind of atmospheric mayhem that summer sometimes unleashes after days of heat and humidity. An unsettled atmosphere always unsettles the heart, and the rainbow has traditionally been portrayed as the balm at the end of it all. 

It reminds me of an August day on which I was traveling the New York State Thruway in the year of the Royal Rainbow World Tour – 1997. I finished up the last few stops and sailed along as a magnificent rainbow took the remaining rain and clouds and produced a visage of beauty. It spanned the horizon in front of me, stunning in its breadth and intensity, and I took it as an omen that I was exactly where I supposed to be. That doesn’t happen often in life, particularly in the life of what was then a newly-turned-22-year-old just barely embarking upon his life’s journey, but I felt it. That rainbow reached around and framed the vision of my future. I had no idea where I was going, but I throttled ahead without looking back, ever reaching for the rainbow that was elusively ahead of me that day, and every day since. 

A day spent poolside is usually a good day, and as today’s temperatures look to soar again, here’s hoping for another good day. We had a marvelous weekend spent swimming and ducking in and out of air conditioning – the very best sort of summer weekend to have, when reading and meditating formed the bulk of work and chores to be done. On with the weekly recap, as we pause for a deep breath before doing it all over again. August continues unabated…

Once upon a time in your wildest dreams… summer burns music into the memory. 

Preparing the summer way is surely one of life’s greatest pleasures. 

The aforementioned pause of August.

An anniversary dinner in Albany, proving that the heart’s desire may indeed be found no further than one’s own backyard. 

The hunt for baby formula is the latest, and possibly greatest, craze in which I’ve taken part. 

My dear friend Kira made an all-too-rare trip to Albany to visit us, and it was a grand time. 

The fabulous Queenie in all her bejeweled finery. 

Sharing cocktails has been replaced by sharing a meditation with a friend, and life feels more full because of it. 

A lone cucumber rises in the face of attacks and odds. One must admire the perseverance.

A quietly unremarkable Sunday night blog post, as one does in these parts. 

Dazzlers of the Day included Beyoncé and Bradford Shellhammer.

Low rumblings of thunder sounded off and on all day, so when night fell and the thunder ceased, it felt more remarkably quiet. Then the crickets began their nightly concert, and even though the attic window was closed off to the heat, I could hear them chirping. This is the sound of August – one of the happiest sounds in the world. 

On this Sunday night, I am posting this in real time, not my customary practice. It carries the capacity for danger – misspellings and mistakes – and the possibility of the imperfect, something I’ve been trying to embrace. A pair of air-dropped photos, taken from our ride back from Amsterdam, embody the end of our day. It’s still summer light, and then still warm even after the sun goes down. August is ripening gradually, the way it does in a good year. 

Taking a deep breath to prepare for the work-week ahead, I sit in the attic by myself, and in silence – the crickets my own soundtrack, soon to be joined by the hum of the air conditioner in the window, which finally decided to kick on even at this late hour. We are in the full embrace of summer and enthralled to be here. Being present is another thing I’ve been working on, and it’s becoming a good habit, especially in the sunny season. 

Whispers of fall are present if you are looking closely. I spied several clumps of goldenrod in tight bud, and our ostrich ferns have rounded the corner into copper – they lasted amid all the heat we’ve had (thanks to some rigorous and regular watering), but it’s finally proving to be too much, and they’ve already put in a solid season of bright chartreuse – it feels right to give them a break, let them burn into their coppery finale. Some years I will cut them back to give their space a cleaner look, but they ay still have a few weeks of foliage left, and if we get some cooler temperatures they may hold on yet. 

For now, for this Sunday evening in early August, I write out this little blog post, saying not much of anything but reaching out to anyone who wants to read something of nothing before we go back into the real world on Monday. 

Let’s keep the summer going… for now.