A Softer Summer

Friends, I’ve been fighting summer…for many reasons. The heat is bothering me greatly (and my doctor told me the other day it may be because of a medicine I take). But it’s more than the burning sun that sets off the strange oasis of rippling waves on my driveway, it’s the never-ending pressure.

You see, in New England, we only have 2 solid months of summer (and one sketchy month called June which can be chilly and rainy). There is such squeezing tension to fit in so many things in a few short weeks that it makes my head spin. And I see and hear it outside my door too…the traffic is crazy, the parking lot to the liquor store is like vehicular musical chairs, the kayak center is overrun and there isn’t a parking space to be had in the village, I hear sirens and fireworks every night – and now there are even wandering black bears in my environs for the first time since I’ve lived here. Not to mention all the books I want to read, the fall knitting I want to start, the friends and family I want to see. With the unusual heat bearing down, it’s all been too much.

Every morning I check the dewpoint on my weather app. That’s my daily good-day-or-not barometer. Imagine building your day on two little digits? If it’s over 65, I nearly despair and it’s been as high as 77 this July. I’ve been parched and cranky and worst of all, confused.

I’ve asked myself, “what do you really want today?” and more often than not, the response is “to be left alone”. I don’t mean by people but by noise and chaos. I’ve asked myself how I can make the day lovely for myself and sometimes I think that I might want to swim. I am lucky to have access to a nice soothing aqua pool but the traffic to get there has been horrendous. Other answers that come to mind are to rest outdoors with my books on the new rattan settee I was able to buy last month. I think of my books and of naps, letter-writing, and baking fruit pies. And I’ve done a little of that but only with an eye to the deep woods nearby where bears have been lurking.

But real relief for my summer angst came in the form of an artist I’ve discovered. I know that sounds terribly simplified but the images that impressionist painter David Hettinger creates are of soft summertime days like the kind I long to have myself. Amazingly, many of his depictions are of women napping on settees or reading books under enveloping trees. He includes children in his works too, like the hushed image above of a sleeping girl in pink shorts. Until I saw that illustration, I had forgotten how much I love my pink shorts. Sometimes it only takes a spot of beauty to turn one’s brain. That’s why beauty is so important in our world, today and always.

After a few nights of researching Hettinger’s art, I decided to shut the outside world down. Not my beloved tribe but the clamor and pandemonium. I’ve had some days where I haven’t gone anywhere but to my own backyard, bears be damned. I placed an old white rocker on my small front porch where I’ve had iced tea a few afternoons when the sun finally moves to the back. I baked some Nantucket Morning Glory Muffins even though no one was visiting. They were delicious, and then I passed the remainders on to others. I made lemonade and drank it all in two days. I’m sitting in my winter spot, the living room chair, and reading library books in the cool comfort of air conditioning and once that’s running, I no longer hear the afternoon sirens. When I go out, I leave later in the day to avoid the beach traffic or my sister generously collects me in her car. She knows how sensitive I am right now.

Am I loving summer yet? No, not this one. But I’m finding joys by slowing down, taking a breather from all the summer shoulds, crafting my own way of seasonal living. Next week I plan to visit a lavender farm that’s been on my radar. I’ll bring a vintage parasol I bought years ago and wear my pink shorts.

I urge you to find David Hettinger’s muted watercolor paintings online and study them. See his soft hues, the half-eaten pie and the ripe peaches, the mother in her kerchief talking gently to her children in the outdoors? Look for laundry on the line, plump pillows on chairs, and the overall summertime ease on everyone’s face.

~

Shut-out to my good friend Karen who challenged me today to create a “Victoria Summer Day” in the manner of the old Victoria July issues of yore that we all loved so much.