The summer solstice crept up on me quietly this year. It’s a day I usually relish, but this year I’ve been distracted by writing and family and found myself waking up by the very early morning light and realizing that, wow, is it the summer solstice today? With nothing planned to celebrate, I realized it would probably end up being just like any of the other long days I have, albeit with a bit more sunlight.
But nature works in funny ways. And this year she wasn’t going to let the solstice slip by without my notice. Subtle, she is. At the Greenmarket I was met with giant, overflowing crates of vibrant red sweet cherries. Whoa, it is summer! The slow progression from apples to strawberries to the first stone fruit always seems to hit me so quickly. Much like the bare winter trees do; slowly budding, flowering, gaining leaves–all of a sudden I think, sheesh, when did the trees get so green?
So I feasted on cherries, still with tatters of blossoms and leaves attached, right there in the market. I ate them on the way home, I ate them in the kitchen, and brought more with me as I shuffled around the house. I started thinking about cherry recipes, and started planning a cherry clafoutis.
Yet for some reason summer still didn’t really sink in. Even though the sun was settling so late, I kept forgetting that the season was smack dab in the midst of changing. But when I looked out the window down into our instantly (seeming) lush urban garden, I did an absolute double take to see a small coterie of fireflies, lit for the first time this year. How punctual they are. Flitting around, attracting one another with their pulsing luminescence. Cherries and fireflies, yes, summer is here.
Next: the recipe