"This is June, the month of grass and leaves . . . already the aspens are trembling again, and a new summer is offered me. " - Henry David Thoreau, Journal, June 6, 1857
June, on the cusp of spring and summer, straddled between the two seasons as if nature is trying to decide to stay forever adolescent or cross over into young adulthood. As May, with its freshness of buds and blossoms, awakening lawns, lovely mornings and warming afternoons, slides ever so quickly into June, there is a greening taking place in the world outside my picture window, in the woods that are behind my home.
Is there anything more glorious as the lushness of June? It heralds the beginning of summer, giving false promise that the season will last indefinitely, before we count off the days of summer like pearls dropping off a broken necklace, one by one until there are no more summer days to count. The lushness of June is rich and full and soul-soothing, before the heat of July begins to dull the splendor of the canopy of green, that by August will take on a dusty, drier aura, and by September is just a memory.
June is not made to take in behind glass; it must be experienced first hand outdoors - whether that may be a walk in the woods or sitting under the shade tree in a comfortable lawn chair. June lends itself for taking time to breathe it in and restore your soul.
So today, take a few moments (or a few hours) to go revel in the lushness, like a guilty pleasure, and let me know what you enjoy about June.