I wonder what it would be like to live in a world
where it was always June.
~L. M. Montgomery from Anne of the Island

Each month is special in its own way:  I tend to favor April and October for how the light plays on the landscape during transitional times — a residual of what has been – with a hint of what lies ahead.

Then there is June. 
Dear, gentle, full blown, overwhelming June. 

Nothing has dried up as it is often a rainy month. There is a rich feeling of ascension into a lushness of summer combined with an immense relief of loosening too-tight family schedules.

And the light, and the birdsong and the dew and the greens —
such vivid verdant landscapes.

As lovely as June is, 30 days is more than plenty or I would become completely oversaturated. It is too greedy to wistfully hunger for another 335 days of June.

And so it goes…