The Longest Days

The longest days of the year have this kind of magical feel that comes back to me every June. I wake up full of energy at around 5:45, often catching the sunrise. Morning is my favourite time to write, listen to birds and, if I’m at the cottage, maybe have a swim. Two afternoons this past week, I took myself berry picking at a local farm, and this seasonal ritual is another practice that makes me feel grounded and sane in the chaos of the world.

The other thing about seasonal rhythms: They remind...