Dear God/ess, Thank you for another beginning of a beautiful week. Summer is a glorious but fleeting time that when we slow down and drift upon the river currents and allow the laziness of a summer day penetrate our deepest psyche, we are renewed. Memories fade into the present moment where no memory exists.

The summer night, although much shorter than the summer's day, is alive with sounds that are deeply ingrained in cellular memory. The Katy-Dids, the tree frogs and the night owls, which remind me of occult knowledge, all give rise to eternal nudges of the soul.

I just got out of work early (1am) and now have an extra night to revel in these sounds. Air conditioning is not my thing. I sleep out on the sunporch to be aware of all that surrounds us in the night.

As I approach my home, I catch a glimpse of the waning crescent moon upon the horizon. A red crescent moon. Is that red star nearby the planet Mars? Are all the stars red, tonight?

The beauty of high summer is remembered tonight and the sounds of summer nights echo out across the River. This is the perfect moment, the perfect summer, the perfect waning moon. It is all here, all now.

Om Peace Amen

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