Give me your hands, if we be friends

Midsummer Night's Dream...I woke up this morning, with new knowledge (thank you, books) of an old idea that if a woman were to wipe the dew of the Midsummer Day on her face, she will grow to be even more beautiful than the year before. I figured it can't hurt - I walked out my back door, down my steps. I tried to find a flower or a tree leaf with dew - no success. So I wiped my hands over the blades of grass and put them up to my face. When I looked around (to see if anyone was watching) I noticed, for the first time, how lucky I was to have this tiny patch of green space in the middle of my busy street. How quiet it was back here - with a shed and fences for privacy, a bird feeder from my old house, a space to grow things.

Midsummer doesn't represent the middle of summer to us, it's traditionally recognized as the middle of the growing season. How many things could I begin to grow here? Tomatoes, lettuce, cucumbers? A chance to create, to nurture a living thing into something better than it was and good for me! Too late for this year, perhaps, but already, I think that Midsummer dew is working...