Shy, quiet August

I stare at my diary in disbelief that in just a few days we turn the page into August. While shy, quiet August has always been one of my favorite months, the transition between summer and autumn, it also means we are slipping down through another year.
August is without a national holiday with celebrations and gatherings. Those occasions involving fireworks, travel, costumes, wrapped packages and colored lights. August is the month for family vacations. For quiet days swinging in a hammock sagging between trees, listening to the sound of the water from a spring fed lake lapping up against the shore. August is the time to put aside the list of chores and take a few days to rest and read. Enjoy an early morning walk. August is a time when we can break out of our routines.
Over the years I have spent the month of August in exotic places. One year driving up into the Atlas Mountains in Morocco and exploring the small villages nestled in the cliffs around the route. Another summer, completing graduate work in Ethiopia, I spent the month traveling through this exquisitely beautiful, yet desperately poor country.
I mention these experiences because what I took from these adventures was the importance of stepping back and looking at the world through a different lens. The importance of changing your daily routine, your diet, and the landscape with a different appreciation of what defines a day.
What I have also learned over time is that it isn’t necessary to travel to an exotic place to experience this. We have the same experience staying at home. It’s a matter of shifting our thinking and our routines. New Hampshire is a state filled with magical, enchanting places to discover. Lakes and streams hidden along secondary roads. Small antique and book shops filled with treasures. Towns with fascinating histories.
This year there is the new Colonial Theater in Laconia and the Opera House in Lakeport. There are new café’s, a thriving arts community emerging and too many cultural and sporting activities to absorb in one month.
Yes, the quiet month. A time when my house is filled with Black-eyed Susan’s. When fresh, sweet vegetables from local farms fill the refrigerator and spill out of the baskets on the shelf. When I learn of an outdoor concert at the last moment and sit on the grass listening to the music as the sky shifts from dusk to a night sky. Ready, then, on Tuesday, September 7, the morning after Labor Day to turn off the alarm and begin the day with a new perspective.