“There’s a summer place where it may rain or storm; yet I’m safe and warm. For within that summer place Your arms reach out to me and my heart is free from all care for it knows: There are no gloomy skies when seen through the eyes of those who are blessed with love. And the sweet secret of a summer place is that it’s anywhere when two people share all their hopes; all their dreams; all their love.”
Years of unmet expectations, seasons of memories, grief from losses, revelations of deceptive dreams.
These began pouring forth last fall and winter as a radical weather system rested on this country, and people struggled through a new pattern of life.
The lush green of summer 2020 had begun to succumb to the fall’s artistic ménage of rust, red and yellow leaves.
Rain that had been promised by the local weathermen arrived with a vengeance: blasting a cold wind that swirled through the depleted home gardens creating a foreboding future to a year that had begun with intrigue and trepidation.
It was like a season unrivaled in our history with a threat of more to come.
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