we have the given life

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Yesterday was twenty one years and a loganberry festival and Whidbey Island and picking berries and red-stained fingers and five forks digging into one whole pie and red-checkered tablecloths and braiding wheat and sitting on thorny weeds and the windows down in a big suburban and loganberry wine that tasted like drinking strong jam and island music coming from a barn stage and prayer in a field and some of my favorite people and seagulls chasing us on the ferry. It was the type of day that deserves a run-on sentence: so full to the tippy-top with happy things.

"We have the given life, not the planned," says Wendell Berry. This is the given life. I don't know how or why it came to be mine, but I am awfully grateful for all of it, and this season called summer.

[all photos from yesterday : ones including me taken by jayne]

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