September 2022
As imperceptibly as Grief
The Summer lapsed away—
Too imperceptible at last
To seem like Perfidy—
A Quietness distilled
As Twilight long begun,
Or Nature spending with herself
Sequestered Afternoon—
The Dusk drew earlier in—
The Morning foreign shone—
A courteous, yet harrowing Grace,
As Guest, that would be gone—
And thus, without a Wing
Or service of a Keel
Our Summer made her light escape
Into the Beautiful.
~ Emily Dickinson
Darkness is coming noticeably sooner, these late summer days. The small trees in our front yard, stressed by lack of rain, have already assumed their fall coloring. The pale green florets of the sedums are beginning to blush. Another summer is lapsing away – making its light escape, leaving behind memories. I hope for you that some are memories of beauty, peace, and good times with people you love. Booker and I spent time in New Hampshire and had some wonderful times with family and old friends both there and closer to home.
I know that many of you also took time away, some in northern New England or upstate New York, some on the Cape, some farther afield. I know, too, that some of you faced life changes and health challenges. Two of our members – Michael Holroyde and Mike Nagy – have died since mid-July. Both of them, in his own unique way, were a part of the fabric of the congregation for many years.
We look forward now to a new year together, to renewing and deepening connections and to making new ones, to defending the future of the planet and to standing against racism and other forms of oppression, to celebrating and learning, to supporting and holding one another when we are in need, and to having fun together.
I’m looking forward to this new year with you.
