In June, we tune into what brings us light
Arizona’s beating sun pulls me back firmly into summer sensations. In the mornings I rise earlier with the sun, while the afternoon heat lulls me into sweet siestas. Like a lingering lover, the sun is late to leave–dusting the sky in rose pink and lavender before the sky is sprinkled with brilliant stars. A familiar terrain greets me each day, in what feels like a kind of homecoming. After spinning through a series of cities and landscapes over the course of a year, I know I am not the same person as before. I have become worn as a river stone, and yet more refined. There is much I want to share and digest. At a national park tour near the Four Corners, a guide told us that the desert plants we saw were not just surviving, but thriving–enough so to bloom flowers, which takes an enormous amount of energy. I think about the ways in which June encourages this process, of shifting us from survival to thriving, by providing us with an abundance of resources. This abundance is what encourages us to share and grow in a vibrant familial community, to replenish and save surplus for when we need it.