A slower season

July is possibly my favorite month of the year. Work is about the same as any other quarter-end - busiest the second and third weeks, peppered with meetings and administrative tasks. Home responsibilities continue unabated in their pleasing-if-mindless rhythm, the burden of chores like errands somewhat eased by the lack of need for winter coats or mittens.

But no other month compares in terms of weather - summery and warm, but not yet hailing the end of the season as with August's droughts. Birds still frantically chirp at dawn and dusk, feeding their babies and defending their turf. We are greeted over coffee by the house finch, the pheobe, the cardinals, mockingbirds and robins. While working outside, sparrows and warblers keep us company. The swallows dart and swoop at dusk, picking off unseen mosquitos before the bats take over, and the fireflies begin to rise from the grass.

Flowers are still bursting at the seams - everything from annuals to perennials. Lavender and phlox, begonias and vinca, roses and coreopsis, lilies and impatiens. The black-eyed susans are ready to pop, as are the hydrangeas. My yard full of mismatched, shaggy and overflowing beds brings me delight. The vegetable garden has already yielded bushels of peas and green beans, along with many bunches of herbs, and offers the promise of tomatoes, cantaloupe, jalapenos and watermelon still to come.

But nothing, and I mean nothing is better than working at my job and around the house while having both girls at home. They laugh and bicker, they swim and bike, they upend the toy room in the basement and then read and flop in front of the TV. Their browned, soft-skinned bodies still smell like sunshine and sunscreen after their showers. They sleep soundly as we kiss their slightly sweaty foreheads and peach-soft cheeks before our bedtime.

Their summer vacation always makes me feel more at ease, inspired to pick berries or turn on the sprinkler. Trips to the grocery are more light-hearted, with K pushing J in the cart down empty aisles, then chasing her in an overly-dramatic frantic way until J nearly falls out in a ball of uncontrollable laughter. Trips to the library are calm and sweet, where K will take J's little hand as they walk between the bookshelves, and snuggle her close as they flip through new books. Play often ends outside, whether swimming at friend's pools or getting dirty in the yard. Shoes are shed, hands are covered with sidewalk chalk, grass clippings cling to hair. Dinner is often enjoyed al fresco before impromptu tennis matches begin on the street.

K is still burdened with moving between two households, but spends more time on her own terms during the day, rather than being overwhelmed to exhaustion with a schedule dictated by someone else. Reading and swimming are her favorite tasks, and sleeping-in is the goal of most weekday mornings. J is more quite than usual, even as she struggles to give K personal space. As I write this, K is reading on the sofa, and J is sitting almost on K's hair, stroking her forehead gently with an adoring, almost motherly smile on her face. It fills my heart to bursting. I can't believe how fortunate I am.

So here's to this new season, filled with relaxation, adventure and quiet loving moments. May it last like a long summer twilight...