I focus my attention to the world around me. The animals and trees have an unusual and magic quality when draped in the perfume of summer heat. How we value such things so unevenly? I think to the moments witnessing frogs and insects hiding in the tall grasses. How dispassionately each casts it lengthy shadow away? Away from the shore of the lakes and streams collecting the excess moisture from the farms and mountains. Is there ever a more generous reason to bend in the direction of cooling winds with each gust? I turn my attention to my own desires, to make the setting and scene of the season’s theater performance last another act. Is there ever a greater gift? To enjoy the fleeting world we imbibe in without expectation, that is my dharma, if only for this luscious bookend of a day.