A Midsummer Reflection
by Roelant Dewerse
Heat engulfs me, wraps itself around me, beating on my head, washing in waves up from the baked ground and stealing the moisture from my eyes even as they pinch against the glare.
A South Australian midsummer’s day is no time for living things to be moving out of shelter, other than when absolutely necessary to get food or move to another shelter, or into water. Even night time is oppressive for days on end, until a cool sea breeze blows temporary relief through our quickly-opened doors and windows. As the days without rain stretch into weeks, we watch helplessly as the blades of grass turn brown and curl, crunching faintly beneath our feet. Lovingly nurtured tomatoes are boiled alive on their vines, and our hopes for other crops are seared by our friend-turned-enemy, the summer sun. Daily we do battle with it, and daily we see parts of our Earth being sterilized by its relentless radiation, and by the fire that so often follows it.
What is the wisdom of midsummer? What does a season that seems to suck life out of the land have to offer to us living beings? Is it a divine accident, a result of human sin, or evidence that our Creator God is not quite as we thought?
As my mind retreats up through the blue sky I see the Earth turning in space, the familiar shape of this land squarely facing the star at the centre of our group of planets. I know that those planets closer to the star are impossibly hot; those further away, plunged into ice. It is in summer that we experience for ourselves the tenuous balance our Earth’s orbit lies in, and can marvel at the fine tuning that sustains life where there might otherwise be none.
And what of the desert, and the Outback in summer? Of the apparent emptiness, stretching its red sheet to a flat horizon, broken only by patches of scrub and dark stones? Those who have made it home can tell you that not all life is green; that these places have something that whispers to our inner-most being, telling us that we are as nothing, yet we belong.
What is the wisdom of summer? Summer is a refining fire that strips us back to our soul, if we let it. And as the shoots from fire-cracked gum tree seeds emerge from the blackened ground, we too can be freed from the shells we build around ourselves; freed to hear and see God in the world around us.
5 Responses to “A Midsummer Reflection”
You captured it, I was brought up in this SA Heat in the north. Truth is … I hope you continue to write here so I can reflect more and be inspired to accept my true heritage
Thanks Leonie! That’s very encouraging.
Your true heritage: there’s an interesting thought, and one we’ve pondered a lot.
Somehow the land of our birth has a hold on us that can’t be reasoned, no matter how long we live elsewhere….a spiritual connection that helps us to understand ourselves. What happens when we move homes, though?
Making Australia home has been given a huge boost by the time we have spent in the Flinders Ranges and the Outback, as well as time walking and rock climbing in both South Australia and Victoria.
What has your experience of the land in other countries been?
Roelant
I was influenced by culture that respects and is linked to the land – this for me is the true expession of Australian Spirituality. It pre-dates the advent of Cook and Christ and impacts on us today. I carry this understanding (not always well) that “place and its history impacts on my experience of all”. When I visit other places I am not assuming that life will be the same – I look for the hidden depth and always find elements to guide me. This is not always easy and it takes time. When I take time the that which is hidden in plain sight becomes evident. Love to talk more – writting is not my best skill and sometimes there so much that can be experienced in these conversations.
Roelant. I love the eloquence and elegance of your reflection. One easily aligns with the essence of your graphic imagery. One recognises the significance of your conclusion.
However, your descriptor, ‘friend-turned-enemy’ seems a bit like an appealable, harsh judgement to me. So let me rise in defence of Sol’s reputation. What motive could the prosecution claim? How conclusive was the evidence tendered? What mitigating circumstances did the summary court consider? Did the prosecution disregard the collective human tendency to externalise blame onto others for our ills and woes – grounds to withdraw?
The full-bench in my appeal must surely be reminded of the laxity of the ‘collective we’ in failing to maintain the insulating layers that blanket the full impact of Sol’s raw ferocity. In seeking the overturning of the ‘Guilty’ verdict, I hope that, in summing up, the court will have wisdom to encourage the ‘prodigal we’ to wake up, return home, and declare a renewed love for our Mother — planet earth.
No pun intended, but the warmth of your spirit glows through your reflection.
Thank you.
Thank you David for your encouragement! I think you’ve made a good point about perspective too. The sun is fairly constant, sunspots aside; it’s the Earth that moves, and its protective layers and natural systems that change, partly under our influence. Sounds to me like a vein that you could mine in a reflection of your own…Looking forward to seeing it!