JULY
(the 7th month of the year in
the Gregorian calendar) is
the crown jewel of summer in the Northern Hemisphere…a season unapologetically
alive, unfolding in sun-drunk hours and breeze-heavy nights. All sorts of flowers
continue to blossom in such a wild manner…nothing asks for permission…everything
simply blooms!
"July walks in barefoot, humming something
wild /
with sun-dappled shoulders and pockets full of time."
with sun-dappled shoulders and pockets full of time."
Where June teeters
at the edge of summer’s threshold, July dives in fully. It begins already
mid-celebration, with lots of outdoors festivals, with fireworks that split the
sky and laughter that spills onto porches and piers. It is a month that invites
us to slow down and stretch out, to savor more and strive less. July is a pause
with a pulse.
"July is a blaze / in the middle of
the year, / an exhale of light."
In
July there is a rhythm of radiance; days
are long…dazzlingly…defiantly…long. Evenings linger like reluctant guests at a
golden-hour banquet, while the sun becomes less of an object in the sky and
more of a presence, like a daily ceremony of light and heat.
Children dart
through sprinklers, chasing invisible prizes, while gardeners bend low under
the weight of tomato vines...melons swell in the soil, the air smells of basil
and barbeque…without any doubt, there's something cute in the sweat that beads
on a sunburnt shoulder.
"Sunlight pools in the hollows of
trees / and every shadow speaks of warmth."
On the other hand,
we could measure July in ice cream drips and pages turned poolside, in the hush
of a fan through an open window, in the fireworks that echo long after they
fade…there’s a generosity to it and we can easily see how July gives without holding (it holds nothing in reserve).
Some say July is a
dream, but dreams fade, while July lingers its etched into memory with
crystalline clarity. Maybe it's the heat that brands it there, maybe the summer
typical “rituals”, such as camping trips, weddings, reunions, festivals, or even
the quiet days, when nothing “big” happens, could become a milestone.
July is that
perfection made tactile, the perfect blend of memory and midsummer….and yes,
it is the midsummer’s peak, and we’re invited to live like poets…even if just for a
season….to notice more, to feel deeper, to chase what matters and let go of
what doesn’t.
In a world addicted
to the urgent, July whispers: rest. This is the best time to take the
long way home, to sit longer at the dinner table, to look up, to let time
ripple outward like the lake after you dive in.
There is a humility
in July’s heat, which somehow it reminds us that we are small but alive, tied
though to something bigger…the sky, the sea, the sun, and….time. In the heart of summer, even silence is golden...you,
a hammock, a book, or perhaps nothing at all…just you and the great golden
hush.
"Even solitude feels lighter / when
the sky is this wide."
In the end, July
teaches us to live without flinching; to love the heat, the haze, the honesty;
to stretch toward the joy as the sunflower stretches toward the sky…deliberately,
unapologetically and in full bloom.
July is also a reminder that nothing,
not even summer, lasts forever and that is exactly why it matters.
A big salute to the warmth, to the
wonder and to the amazing “generosity” of July!
