In summer, nothing happens.

What is the change in summer
of which one expects nothing?
Nature is not reborn,
nor does she perish except
in the streaks of a rare elm
that has outlived itself.
The weather conceals nothing:
the months are temperate,
even in the hardest rains
one may walk without a coat.
The gardens flourish, and bear
without a gardener’s help.

Sitting in windows at night
black cats and their masters
look out on summer; the moon
feeds their yellow visions,
the opened windows cool them…
One wants nothing to happen
forever, and thinks of those
who perhaps are ready to die,
except that it is summer
and they are putting it off.
~Robley Wilson from “In Summer, Nothing Happens”

We’ve attended three memorial services so far this summer, and at least one more is on the calendar. Given a choice, all of these friends would have preferred to keep living at least through the summer, but God had other plans.

An eternal summer is in store for them, even if they wanted to put it off for a little while longer.

Each day becomes an unwarranted gift of time, summertime or not.
I would like to sit and watch while nothing whatsoever happens.

Now I’m aware: nothing happening is actually something very special.