I was going to write a post on rainy-day reading, but then the rain stopped. I loved it while it lasted, which is a big change for me. See here for when my attitude started to improve. Of course, I didn’t have to be out in it. I could enjoy the gentle hush of it and the green it left behind.

There were a few super dramatic moments, and I wasn’t thrilled when I discovered my roof was leaking, but it’s probably better to know. All fixed now.

I did read a lot during those wet days. Here are a few recommendations, which, yes, you can skip if you’re not a reader 😉 :

• One Long River of Song by Brian Doyle, published posthumously by his widow and friends. This is like a greatest hits collection of his essays, short prose, poems, and what he called proems. I’m savoring one or two per day.
• Love, Nina: A Nanny Writes Home by Nina Stibbe. Maria Semple, author of Where’d You Go, Bernadette says this about it: “Breezy, sophisticated, hilarious, rude and aching with sweetness: Love, Nina might be the most charming book I’ve ever read.” That does pretty well sum it up. It has since been adapted into a TV show in the UK, but read it first! Many in the literary and arts world of 1980s London are mentioned, including a noted biographer, whose name rang a bell for me, so I checked my library downstairs and found this:
• Jane Austen: A Life by Claire Tomalin, which I’m still loving at about two-thirds through it. Of course as a major Jane Austen fan, I knew the basic details of her life, but this is so much more.
• I also recommend all the Tana French murder mysteries. I read The Searcher first and was hooked. Although I finished them all a while ago, I now use them in my French lessons, translating a few paragraphs (from English to French) each week, then Natacha and I fix all my mistakes and compare my translation with the published translation. Great for working on vocab and the wretched prepositions, which rarely match English usage.

If you read French,  try these:

• Eh bien dansons maintenant ! by Karine Lambert, which was completely charming and life-affirming.
• This week I’m about 250 pages into the 850-page La Vérité sur l’Affaire Harry Quebert by Joël Dicker, and cannot put it down.

But now it’s mosty sunny and gorgeous outside. Fortunately, I can also read in the hammock–when it isn’t occupied.

Flowers are everywhere.

Downtown Fort Collins is brimming with blooms. One of my poet friends took me for an ice cream, a stroll, and a bit of browsing in Trimble Court Artisans last week. Delightful. Savored every minute. Thanks, Sandy!

Then last weekend I had the privilege of helping a bit with a Fernando Ortega concert. It was a gift from Tom and Christy French to as many of their dear ones as could make it (they have a LOT). The whole thing was absolutely magical. No good photos–I was too busy savoring. Many, many thanks, Tom and Christy!

And I’ve had a few strolls on the golf course out back, when I can time it right–after golfers, before sprinklers or full dark.

I hope you, too, are finding many things to savor these lovely summer days, even if you’re inside reading a book, listening to the rain.

I’ve been in a bit of a funk recently, for no good reason, just a few disappointments, the fact that spring still feels a lot like winter.  And I miss David. You might think after five years I’d be . . . what?  Immune? Over it? That’s not really how grief works. Focusing on the positive helps, though.

So when I stumbled upon these photos from a November 2003 trip to Maui to celebrate our 25th wedding anniversary, I was not just cheered up. I was delighted. I’d thought the bulk of them were long gone. I’ve had the photo above enlarged, framed, and on the wall for years, because I just can’t get enough of those blues, but the rest were a wonderful surprise.

Sunsets are spectacular there, of course, but I also love the early morning light. The last two are from the walk we took every morning before breakfast.

I don’t even know what to call that stunning shade of blue, undulating with peachy pinks and molten silver, flecks of navy in liquid mercury, but it feeds my soul somehow.

So even though the early spring weather brought us a near-blizzard this morning, canceling one of my poetry classes and the first of five “Wine Tour of France” educational tastings, I’m okay.

I heard this today from Timothy Keller on the Gospel in Life podcast: “Because of God, there is an ocean, an infinite ocean of love and joy out there for us, and we’re trapped temporarily in a little tiny piece of darkness, microscopic practically. Evil is a passing thing. There’s light and high beauty forever beyond its reach because evil fell into the heart of Jesus. It doesn’t matter what happens. It’s going to be all right.” 

Take heart. It’s going to be all right.