Still softly dreaming. I am held in the lusciousness that is summer in Michigan. Recent memories of love and lovelies mingle with humid fecundity. The very AIR is green! The berries are overripe, swollen with the rains that welcomed me home to my love and my land. Now it is summer. Sleepy and held close by the seedlings who have grown tall and borne fruit, I am a servant in this season. Picking worms and pruning growth, tying vines and pulling weeds, I ensure a harvest in the weeks to come. Tending these plants, as tending the thready connections to tribe, is reward beyond expectation. Rainwater, like the love filling my heart, is overflowing all vessels.