SevenSenses

“What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?”
-John Steinbeck

My front porch opens to the west thus making it the ideal spot on a summer evening to watch the sun set over the trees of the forest that leads to the bay.   It allows us to experience the evolution of each season as we journey around the sun year after year.  In early Spring the trees are still stark gray.   Their branches still wear a crust of a late snow that slowly melts into glistening teardrops at the arrival of spring birds.  In mid-spring the blush of red on their branches appears like a horticultural twelve o’clock shadow, buds slowly awaken and begin to expand into the promise of leaf. Then one day, branches are suddenly obscured by lush, full, green foliage. Birds are bellowing  their song within the branches and the great blue heron glides overhead toward the bay to fish for dinner.  Autumn paints this canvas with hues of red and yellow until they drop to a deep brown to return to their roots and feed the earth following their winter retreat into dormancy.  Miraculous transformation year after year.

While I enjoy all of the New England seasons, I mainly sit on my porches in the summer.  We have two porches; front and back.  My front porch is quite private now. The trees and gardens we planted as saplings and seedlings when we built our home have now fully grown into what, twenty years ago, was simply a vision of what could be.  But, truth be told, it is not what was envisioned twenty years ago; rather a mixture of vision and plan and lessons until it evolved into something more than that original vision.  The front porch looks out over our meadow where we see families of deer, foxes, rabbits, groundhogs or the occasional lone coyote or fisher cat.  The meadow is overflowing with wildflowers, joe pye weed is particularly abundant.  I don’t know the botanical name for joe pye weed  but it’s a fragrant and has lovely cluster of light purple florets that attract hummingbirds and butterflies.  It isn’t fully in bloom just yet but I know it soon will be along with golden rod, day lilies, blue cornflower against the flowing backdrop of tall reeds and grasses. The meadow is where I first notice the fireflies in the summer, usually by late June.  Sitting on the porch with a glass of wine, as the sky darkens and before the mosquitoes take over, I will see the meadow sparkling with light and life that through the winter had just been darkness.

Our back porch was once an open deck but, as it faces South, the summer sun beat down so fiercely on it that we could never enjoy it. When we put a roof on and enveloped it in screen, a whole new world opened up to us.  Stepping out onto that screen porch after being shut up through a New England winter is like stepping into a small cottage retreat.  I am not sure exactly why but as soon as I am out there my worries melt- or at least soften.  I feel as though I am in an entirely different atmosphere and my whole being exhales.  Since we screened in the deck it has become one of our primary spots to commune as a family  or spend time in solitary reflection.  We have family dinners in summer, deep conversations and abundant libations, bird watching and trivia games, music and laughter, yoga and silent meditation, morning coffee and midnight giggles  – It all happens on the back porch.

None of these porch experiences would be particularly notable if it weren’t for the long New England winters.  Without contrast, all the things which we find so sweet and exciting would taste bland.  These porches are simply spaces, but the open sweetness of the porch is felt so deeply in large part because of the contrast to winter shut-in; the harsh winter that preceded the warmth.  For every aspect of my life which I hold dear; my husband, my children, my home, I have a story of hardship or strife which makes me value the goodness of what is even more.  It is also through these experiences that I have learned to trust in my challenges. This pattern remains true to form as I progress forward to my next chapter professionally.

This past month marked the end of a two-decade partnership with my employer.  A career that I have valued and a company for which I am truly grateful to have been a member. I am proud of my many contributions to moving this Company’s goals forward.  I am proud of my own personal and professional growth.  I am proud of my personal integrity through both rewarding and challenging events.  I truly feel that I have learned all that I can from this corporate experience .  I am infinitely eager for the next chapter of applying this knowledge to something filled with purpose for me personally.  My career has been rich with a variety of experiences.  The end-result is a fully outfitted tool belt that I likely would not have deliberately designed; rather I developed skills which I needed to guide me through the experiences I encountered.  It is a tool belt so much better equipped through my challenges over the years -through the things I had to learn and figure out – than anything I might have designed on my own before those experiences.  I simply couldn’t have understood what I needed or, more importantly, how all these skills, when fully integrated, would be so much more powerful for what would present to me in the future.   Thus, though some were hard earned, my skills and experience are something for which I am tremendously grateful because they equip me for what’s next.   

Just as the trees and gardens we planted as saplings and seedlings when we built our home are all fully grown into so much more than what, twenty years ago, was simply a vision of what could be; So too is my opportunity to realize my vision for myself .   What’s possible is coming more and more into focus as abundant, diverse and unexpected opportunities present themselves almost miraculously.  This transition, of course, would not be so sweet without the contrast that preceded it.  So I am grateful for all of it – the successes and the set-backs – for truly … What good is the warmth of summer, without the cold of winter to give it sweetness?