And the sun is streaming into the lounge. The lounge that we didn’t own a year ago. Onto the mat and furniture that we didn’t own a year ago. With our puppy playing in it who didn’t even exist a year ago. In a town we didn’t call home a year ago, in a suburb that we knew very little about, down a street we’d never driven down, until approximately a year ago.
The days are long, hot and sticky. They start with the roar of lawnmowers an indeterminate distance away, and they end with sprinklers ch-ch-ch-ch-ingand the whirring pool filter waits for to be released from a hard day’s work with final gulp. The breeze picks up as the light becomes more golden, and the sun dips in sky for another day.
It’s a time of relaxation and frayed nerves, of cool swims, hot bodies, ice blocks and sweaty clothes. It’s also time for reflection, how things change in the blink of an eye and how quickly today becomes yesterday and fades to a series of memories and stories.
“There are only two days in the year that nothing can be done. One is called Yesterday and the other is called Tomorrow. Today is the right day to love, believe, do and mostly live.”
– Dalai Lama
Today was my 100th day of my first sober Summer; here’s to 100 more.