Reflections of Summer (so far)
Water play, feasting and the insatiable desire to create & consume words
A different backdrop to accompany my writing today. None the less inspiring.
And in all honesty, I sit only an arms length from my normal nook.
Two desks sit side by side in our studio, two different creative stations my husband and I have claimed as our own. Mine is petit and bare, the blank slate I require to create. His is oversized and dominated by the typical detritus you’d expect a full time home-office worker/part-time musician to have at arms reach.
Today, I have chosen to sit at my husbands desk. I am soaking in the novel dance of morning light glinting in the gaps of the blustering cherry tree leaves through the stained glass window before me. My mottled perception of our orchard that sits on the other side of this translucent piece of art, differs to my own desk’s transparent window view. This vantage is how an impressionist artist would interpret and paint our orchard, I think, so unlike the realist depiction I am accustomed and, by default, drawn to.
What does this say about me?
That I prefer to see clearly in plain sight instead of distorting (but still beautifully admiring) the way things are presented and thus perceived?
And yet, on this hot, wild, windy summer morning, with the blinds drawn to keep in what little cool our studio still holds from the nights passing, here I find myself choosing the abstract view of nature, over no view at all.
Two desks sat side by side in a studio, and I, I chose the one more magical.
With any luck that will make all the difference.
Summer
It has well and truly embraced us here on Bunurong Country. With temperatures holding firm in the 30s for the last few days, we find ourselves being drawn to water in all the ways we have at hand - the garden sprinkler, the backyard paddling pool, our local outdoor pool and of course, the beach.
As well as the desire to be near or submerged in water, summer thus far has been all about creating, reading, performing, harvesting, feasting and playing.
We’ve continued to live slowly & simply, unhurried by the turning of the new year, and have reaped the rewards of embracing the season’s offerings at home here on the Mornington Peninsula.
With the passing of Lammas and the Autumn equinox drawing slightly nearer, now feels like the right time to reflect on what this season of fun in the sun has looked like for our family.
“And so with the sunshine and the great bursts of leaves growing on the trees, just as things grow fast in movies, I had that familiar conviction that life was beginning over again with summer.” - F. Scott Fitzgerald, The Great Gatsby
Creating
Summer’s earth energy has been alive in my body these last few months. As I continue to monthly cycle through the inner seasons, I have noticed an unquenchable creative spark that has yet to wane. I remember feeling this way at the same time last year, which resulted in the birth of the Australian Homeschool Stories podcast, something that I am beyond proud to have produced and continue producing in partnership with my incredible husband (more on his amazingness further on). We are on the cusp of launching Season Three in a couple of weeks and a year on I still get that electric feeling in my body, that deep guttural knowing that this work is important, and needed, and fulfilling. Keep going, my body tells me. And I will.
Alongside the podcast, this year I have found my soul dreaming up and ruminating on two new and exciting, big (and slightly scary) creative endeavours. Both are in their infancy so I am keeping them close to my heart for now while they take shape in both my mind and on the page, but I can say that they both stem from my love of storytelling, the written word and of course, books. Which leads me to…
Reading
This continues to be an integral part of my life that I prioritise and make room for daily. Having chosen an unschooling lifestyle compliments this insatiable habit so well that you would be forgiven for thinking I homeschool purely to spend my life with my head in books, a child on my lap and a cup of coffee or tea nearby. They are the backbone of the way we home educate and the literal bookends of my day.
I won’t dive too deeply into all that we have been reading here, take that as another hint of what I’m currently brewing, but I have to highlight that if anything, summer has illuminated and encouraged my reading addiction to new and greater heights.
Performing
It began, as it always does, with my husband rediscovering his love of a particular artist of yesterday. In this case, The Beach Boys. By osmosis our kids became obsessed with the happy harmonies of these feel-good American rockers and their astonishing number of hits have been playing on repeat in our car. The highlight for me has been listening to my three year old master the lyrics of Kokomo over the last months. It started with a slurred line or two as he absorbed the rhythm and foreign words and has now turned into a full rendition of his favourite song belted out from the back seat.
It is one of the sweetest sounds I think my ears have ever heard.
One of those parenting moments you desperately cling to, never wanting to forget the utter elation and joy that comes from a fleeting, unexpected moment of childhood. I am bottling it here in words to accompany a handful of phone recordings to savour too. That, and his continual request for Surfing USA are now etched into my motherly being.
I’ve also had the pleasure of delighting in my daughter’s first ballet lessons. Though on the cusp of turning six, and having loved ballet since she could walk, the time never felt right to enrol in classes until this year. Her age at last dictating the start of classical ballet instruction. But the wait, for her and I, has well and truly been worth it. I watched her join in with the other little ballerinas and take like a duck to water. Her feet turned out, her posture long and lean, her sweet face expressing emotions beyond her years.
Whilst she hasn’t formally taken part in ballet training up until now, it has been woven into the fabric of her early years regardless. Her collection of tutus has slowly amassed and she has danced her little heart out in the comfort of her living room, garden, along footpaths and on bush walks, in shops and essentially anywhere she goes. I’ve loved watching her perform over the years, both solo or in the repertoire of her best friends who are also big fans of costume changes and musical expressionism. We have also read all the books we could find about ballet (the Ella Bella Ballerina series our favourite) and watched many a stage show, both on screen and in real life.
I bring this up because I think it’s important to demonstrate that you don’t need to necessarily outsource or pay a professional to facilitate every passion or interest your child may desire. Our slow journey to beginning formal tuition has been 5 years in the making, and it is only the cherry on top of an already perfectly baked ballerina cake. Having nurtured this love of dance in all the ways we have been able to support it, I now get to watch her hone her craft in the company of wonderful mentors. It fills my heart to the brim to see my little performer following in my footsteps, but treading her own path.
Harvesting & Feasting
These two go hand in hand!
And boy have we eaten well this summer.
It began with my first successful bumper carrot crop and has gone on to include hauls of zucchini, plums, beetroot and tomatoes, while the pumpkins, blood peaches and quinces continue to swell, complimented by a trip to our local strawberry farm with our homeschool co-op buddies. We lost our apricots and apples to the lorikeets despairingly, and our own strawberry patch has been supplying only the possums. Such is the trade off of living and growing food in an area that is abundant with wildlife. It’s certainly taught me the importance of netting and netting well.
Other summer gifts from our garden have been a steady supply of rhubarb stalks (seriously, if you plant only one thing in your garden that is edible, let it be rhubarb - it gives and gives with very little input and the critters steer clear) herbs such as parley, mint, sage, lemon verbena all of which I’ve dried a selection of to adorn our kitchen window. We had a small crop of potatoes that found their way onto our homemade pizzas and our girls reliably give us more eggs a day than we can possibly consume. Lettuce, rocket, spinach and spring onions have kept us in salad all season and my aforementioned amazing husband has been making a loaf of homemade sourdough each weekend, whilst serving up hand made pastas, chutneys and pickles. Seriously, I married well.
I love that all of us share in these homely tasks of growing and preparing food. While I may don the head gardener broad brimmed hat and he the ‘number one cooker’ badge, our kids are besides us in each of these endeavours. They aren’t somewhere else when these humble jobs take place, they join in with secateurs in hand, seeds in pockets, faces covered in flour or smeared with fruit. We work together, make together, play together - are together.
“Day by day and night by night we were together — all else has long been forgotten by me.” - Walt Whitman
It is one of the most important things we are showing them and working alongside them to produce. If my kids know nothing at the end of their ‘schooling’ but how to feed & nourish themselves and others I will call that a big win. I see the fruits of these endeavours already as my little wildlings invite new visitors of our home to a kid guided tour of the garden, where they blow me away with their knowledge of the plants that grow here.
Food and education are inseparable. It is a great failing that the global education system produces people who can recite their timetables but are unable to identify edible plants and flowers, let alone how to prepare and consume them.
Play
Back to water.
I was this many years old when alongside my 5 and 3 year old, we discovered you could catch bubbles in your hands if they are really wet.
We’ve snorkelled in rock pools.
We’ve built dams in the side of creek mouths.
We’ve jumped in and climbed out and jumped in and climbed out of the ledge of the local outdoor pool more times than I could possibly keep count of.
We’ve spied on eels and wood ducks in the lake of a sentimental historic garden.
We’ve chased many seagulls along many shorelines.
We’ve watched shorebirds and stand up paddle boarders dart across our local reservoir.
We’ve let the waves gentle tumble us over in the shallows as we laugh, cuddle and plant endless kisses on each other.
We’ve tossed stones into the bay at our favourite rock throwing spot.
We’ve collected tiny shells and made beach art or elaborately decorated mermaid castles or volcanoes.
We’ve clambered on rock walls that jut out of the sea and stared out at the endless blue horizon.
We’ve frozen huge ice blocks and watched them melt in the shower as we’ve shed our sandy skins.
We’ve used our paddling pool so many days in a row that the grass underneath bears its imprint.
Oh, and we’ve played a lot of cricket. A lot. Of. Cricket.
Other non-water based fun has included the creation of multiple magna-tile marble runs, getting back into the swing of our monthly nature studies, mini adventures and outings with our homeschool mates, books, books and more books, arts & crafts all day/every day, science experiments, home made icy poles, learning new words in French, and making room for rest and replenishment in between.
So that’s been the highlights of our summer so far. It’s been one for the books and continues to yield. Onwards I go propelled forth by the summer within me, with still so many books to read, words to write and stories to tell.
If you are reading this in the southern hemisphere, how has your own summer been? Do you feel this creative swelling of energy inside you inspired by the natural world as I do? Have you had a chance to reflect on what this season has gifted you?
And for the northern hemisphere folk, how have you been wintering? Do you feel that upsurge of spring energy around the corner? What have been your highlights of this reflective and inner season? What has been born forth from your hibernation?
I’d love to hear your thoughts on your summer/winter thus far.
Don’t be shy, say hi, I promise I’ll reply. Yours in summertime (and rhyme).
Steph x
What a gorgeous summer! I love the additions of your beautiful photos, they really capture the energy of the season. Gosh, I am so ready for Spring here! Winter has been loooong!
What a bountiful season! Those plums are magnificent!