Claude Monet – The Luncheon
Then followed that beautiful season…Summer….
Filled was the air with a dreamy and magical light; and the landscape
Lay as if new created in all the freshness of childhood.
Henry Wadsworth Longfellow
Summer afternoon—summer afternoon;
to me those have always been
the two most beautiful words in the English language.
Deep summer is when laziness finds respectability.
Rest is not idleness,
and to lie sometimes on the grass on a summer day
listening to the murmur of water,
or watching the clouds float across the sky,
is hardly a waste of time.
I drifted into a summer-nap under the hot shade of July,
serenaded by a cicadae lullaby,
to drowsy-warm dreams of distant thunder.