MELIA FLOWERS founder / editor / publisher
letter from the editor in every issue
JULY 2016 A Southern Summer
MELIA FLOWERS founder / editor / publisher
early in June , Dan and I sat in his cabin , enjoying the first fruits of his summer garden - tender baby squash and zucchini . The sun had bid its farewell to the day , and a heavy rain began to fall , washing away the remains of an early heat wave , but only the first of many heat waves to come . The glow of a candle placed thoughtfully in the center of the table shown like a spotlight on the flowers Dan had picked earlier . Surprising in their beauty , they had come from carrot and onion plants , Dan explained , much to my amazement . Turns out that at the end of the season , both plants send up a long shoot , which produces a cluster of white flowers . The onions resemble a starburst , and the carrots form a 4-5 inch dome that mimics Queen Ann ’ s Lace - each producing seed for the next season . Isn ’ t that just like God in His infinite state of creativity to allow these vegetables , who spend their existence as ordinary in terms of beauty , to yield such beautiful blossoms in their farewell ? What a grand way to ensure that life goes on - in this case , the food chain .
My heart fills with the simple sweetness of the moment as another sound catches my attention . I strain to determine the source as it was playing second fiddle to the entrancing sound of rain on the tin roof . Then , the rain slowed just enough for the unmistakable tune of tree frogs to blast through the night air , thick with humidity and the echo of countless other creatures joining in the chorus . Another summer in the South has begun .
Since Dan came into my life three summers ago , a wondrous thing happens to me each year in late May , the anniversary of the time that we met . I enjoy summers the way I once did - a pleasure that had escaped me through the passing years . Now , I am transported back to a simpler time - before computers , the internet , and cell phones - before grown-up life managed to dull the sparkle and splendor of summer . With the days long and the nights alive with the music of critters and leaves , rustling on their branches like little children as they are taunted by the breeze , I begin to feel like a young girl in my spirit .
Right there , on Dan ’ s farm , the summer of 2013 proved to be life-altering for me . If my life were playing out on the big screen , that summer would be the turning point in the movie . You know how it unfolds in the movies … Watching , you witness one too many blows to her spirit . In agony , she folds inward with the heartache , and she ( and you ) begins to think the damage is irreversible . Then , something happens . The music starts low , then it builds climatically as evidence of hope appears on the scene for the character for whom your own heart is breaking . Tears begin to well up in your eyes , and you grip the arm of your chair or the hand of the person next to you . In the last ten minutes of the movie , she makes it . Love overcomes whatever the situation has been , and the theater fills with the collective murmuring sound that translates into , “ awwwww .”
I revisit that summer often , watching the scenes unfold in my memory as though watching a movie . In doing so , I am convinced that surely God in His beautiful heaven and all of His angels must have stopped to watch as His plans to restore that which was broken unfolded below . I can imagine that when we go through a long stretch of tough times , God is watching , speaking to us in soft whispers , “ Hold on . I have a plan .” When God sent Dan into my life that special summer , I had endured a long string of heartbreaking incidences and a most recent blow that had the power to take me out . Just a few short weeks before Dan came into my life , I lost my childhood best friend of 36 years to suicide . I will forever believe that God , seeing what I could not see at that time , knew that I needed a life raft . I needed to believe again in the power of love and goodness . God could have chosen any way He desired to bring about the restoration my spirit needed , yet , for whatever reason , He chose to give me a fairy-tale summer , complete with the perfect summer love .
That summer , spent getting to know this beautiful man that would prove tried and true long past the fireflies and starry summer nights , in time would not only heal my heart but restore my spirit . In the summers since , that same incredible feeling returns and I once again feel like I am experiencing summer as a young girl . When I stop by to see him after work , I want to park my car as I turn on the dirt road leading to his farm , kick off my shoes , and run down the dirt road to his cabin . We still cherish our “ date nights ,” and I can ’ t wait to put on a pretty summer dress and see the twinkle in his blue eyes and sweet smile on his face as he greets me at the door .
It ’ s this time of the year that I wish I could temporarily retire and become a summer farm girl . I love life on Dan ’ s farm when all of the life in the world seems to have congregated right there on that soil . When I ’ m fortunate enough to leave work before sunset , I rush home and change into the most ratty , torn pair of jeans I can find and head to his garden . We talk and laugh , sharing the details of our very different days while gently coaxing red , juicy tomatoes from their vines . Having long abandoned my shoes , I sink my toes deeply into the warm soil and breathe the country air deeply into my lungs . Exhaling , I release the stress of work , imagining it floating away , disappearing before my eyes . We pick bright , green zucchini and sunny , yellow squash , deep purple eggplant and peppers in colors that remind me of Christmas - bright red and green . I listen to the sound of Dan ’ s voice riding on the humid air lingering still , and I can hear the love in it as he shares memories of growing up here , and I know that this land was created for his pleasure and for him to work it . Sometimes , it ’ s too much to take in . The beauty of it all - the farm , God ’ s earth , this man . The love and gratitude that I feel in that moment builds up inside my heart , and I feel as though it will explode out of my chest if I try to hold back the tears another moment . I let them go . I bend my head down and continue to harvest the work of Dan ’ s hands , allowing the warm tears to roll down my cheeks . I taste their saltiness as they pass my lips and drip from my chin , falling somewhere beneath the plants in the dusty soil and disappearing . These , are tears of joy . The pain I feel in my chest is a good pain , and I embrace every second , thanking God for everything , especially summertime . Sweet , sweet summertime .
This month , we bring you SUMMER IN THE SOUTH . Is there anything better ? You may be questioning my sanity about now as the unbearable heat blankets our fair land . Although we are just slipping into July , the hottest days are yet to come . I have already given up on good hair days as the humidity reminds me that the best thing I can do is grab a ponytail holder and be thankful for them . I whine to myself as I leave home all summertime fresh and come back feeling like I ’ ve been rolled in some sticky substance . Why is that , I wonder ? What is it about humidity that makes you feel sticky ? Then , I walk to my fridge and pull out a big , juicy tomato , picked the day before , and I realize that it ’ s all a trade-off . That red , delicious work of vegetable art will become the star in a southern delicacy - you guessed it - one of life ’ s greatest simple pleasures , the tomato sandwich , known in the south as “ mater ” sandwich . Only now , I make them with organic bread and organic mayo . Putting that delectable organic tomato on anything less would surely be some form of a sin .
No denying it is hot here and by the time September rolls around , I will be writing about how excited I am for fall while praying that God will please , please take away the heat . Still , there is no denying the joys of summer here in Dixie . Even with temps on the upside of 100 , humidity and those helicopter size mosquitos , I can ’ t imagine living any place else . I hope you find within the pages of this July issue something to inspire you to shake loose the carefree feelings of summer for you , too . Regardless of age or situation that you may find yourself in , think of summer as God ’ s way of reminding us how it feels to reconnect to the simple joys of our youth . It is possible to carry the chill of winter with us year around . For some of life ’ s disappointments leave our hearts so cold , even the hottest day in the south cannot bring on a defrost . Yet , God ’ s love and the beauty of His good earth can bring about a great meltdown that can be life changing . Sometimes , we have to force ourselves to have fun . Then , in realizing it actually feels good , we go back for more . Just as the Bible tells us that we are to come before God as little children , perhaps we should consider summer in the same way . Before we know it , we ’ re secretly turning on sprinklers and running through them . This just may be your summer to become a renaissance girl .
Happy Southern Summer to all of you .
Thanks for reading ... It ’ s a woman thing ! melia
6 JULY 2016 SHEMAGAZINE . COM
letter from the editor
in every issue
J U LY 2 0 1 6
A Southern Summer
e
MELIA FLOWERS
founder / editor / publisher
arly in June, Dan and I sat in his cabin, enjoying the first
fruits of his summer garden - tender baby squash and zucchini. The sun had bid its farewell to the day, and a heavy
rain began to fall, washing away the remains of an early heat
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