Sunday Evening

"By the tender mercy of our God, the dawn from on high will break upon us, to give light to those who sit in darkness and in the shadow of death, to guide our feet into the way of peace." — Luke 1:78-79

It is Sunday evening and the middle of summer and I am in the chair by the lamp and the house is quiet and the heat is beginning to let go for the day, which it does around seven, which is when I start to feel like myself again.

Church was good this morning. The garden is producing. The cherry tomatoes have come in and the big ones are close and the beans are more than I can eat alone, which means I have been leaving bags on porches, which is what you do in July.

I was thinking this week about my father and the store and the summers when I was small and I do not know why those memories came now except that July is July and some things come back when the heat brings them. The cicadas are the same sound. The afternoon is the same weight. I am a different woman at the same table but the light is the same light.

Biscuit is on the rug now that the porch has cooled. The week ahead is open. Nothing anchored. Nothing that needs carrying. I am going to read and then I am going to turn off the lamp and listen to the night and that is enough.