In the sweltering heat in the summer, keep to the shade.

Sit in a camp chair on the porch. Take a second to notice the tiger lilies, the Queen Anne’s lace, the chicory, the milkweed. Pick a handful of raspberries. Listen to the bees.

Color in the cracks in the pavement with sidewalk chalk. Blow some bubbles and try to catch them on the wand. Close your eyes and hum into an electric fan. Doodle patterns with the condensation on the outside of a glass of iced tea. Skip a rock across the water and notice what shape the moon is.

And when you’re surrounded by the booming of fireworks and the buzzing of mosquitoes, the smell of smoke, the murmur of people all around

feel the bug bites and the sun burns and the thistles in bare feet and the ache that comes from somewhere on the inside

Notice the world. Wade out past the depth of your knees, reach in above your elbows. Watch closely. Listen.

And for a moment all there is and all there ever will be is one long evening in the summer, standing there, watching the fireflies light up the world.

Take some of this with you for the car ride home. The days are getting shorter again. Take some courage.

You might be needing some, some of these days.