On the Cusp of Summer

Tonight, the eve before the summer solstice, the last day of spring, gives me pause, and I feel moved to write a kind of post I almost never do (short and not about social software and/or formal learning).


I turned 50 on the spring equinox, a season that draws to a close tonight, and I see it go with mixed feelings. I love the edges of things, the cusps, the beginnings, the openings. Perhaps that explains my near obsession with taking photos of and through windows, to catch the merest whiff of story, of possibility.

It was a season of so many edges, so much time off-kilter, right in the eye of learning’s cycles of disruption and repair. I like being there. It was a season of travel– to Europe and the USA meeting fellow travelers on this journey into 21st-century teaching and learning.


But this spring also marked intense loss for me: it was the season that took my father. Endings.

And now a new opening–summer. And it is a new season for me. Fifty no longer shocks me. My father’s death is no longer news to me every morning. I’ve wrapped up my talk-and-workshop season and am moving into my writing-and-family-traveling season. It is fitting that I am spending this summer solstice in Maine, my father’s soul place, with my mother, airing the house, planting the garden, seeing what has changed about the place since last we were here, remembering the past as we move into this new future.
Tomorrow morning I will get up with the sun (here that means before 4:00 a.m. tomorrow) and see it through the day, ready for summer.