Thanking. Thanking. Thanking.

Some summer images from my body-mind to yours:

The bats in and out of the belfry at dusk, their wild graceful speed. The artemisia gone to seed, preparing to release itself further and wider to the land. The chickens, roosting in pairs in the trees as a strategy to outsmart the predators. The twice washed-out spring due to unprecedented mid-summer flash floods. Lightening—and rain. A 4th of July paddle across a fresh water lake to sand dunes and then a short meander to watch whales spout…

So many mighty miracles this summer, so many newnesses that I could make up stories about; climate change or the power of prayer and rain calling practices.

Today I land here: I do not know.

I do not know what is going on, I want to but staying in the humble recognition of mystery serves me better right now.

What I do know is that this summer, summer of 2022, feels like the Summer of Grace and Mercy. I am on my knees uncertain who or what to thank but thanking. Thanking. Thanking.

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