I heard the comment yesterday: “The summer is flying by!” Of course the reality is, all days contain the same number of hours and if you consider that there is more light right now than the rest of the year, the days are in some ways longer. Yet, the season can seem to fly on by. We have no ability to actually stop time, but we do have the ability to linger in time.
Lingering in time is another way to say: be present in the moment or recognize the here and the now. If you linger in the south, and are fortunate, you may receive the invitation to sit a spell. To sit a spell may mean to chat with a friend, to share tea and talk flowers with another, or it may mean to be quiet and let the wind rustle the trees and the birds’ songs entertain.
I like the saying, sit a spell. We may not use it because the term feels antiquated or regional, but the colloquialism admonishes perimeters and leaves the borders open. Sit a spell may speak to an era but not a finite one. We may think of days long ago as days absent of quick progression, the only time to sit on a neighbor’s porch or pull up rocking chair. But they still exist. When we slow, even for a moment, we access ease and comfort as we lean back and observe or lean in and listen.
When the summer sky finally darkness and fireflies take to lighting the way while the filling moon illuminates the sky, we recognize the end of another summer day. We think of tomorrow and all the places we need to go, the appointments we need to keep, and the obligations we must attend. Perhaps, though, mixed in with these thoughts of things to do we can take in the moments of summer, these moments when the porch beckons, the backyard garden calls, and the ocean laps an invitation. We are invited to take a deep breath in and find ourselves a seat to sit a spell.