Chilly and damp again this morning, a gift from yesterday’s rain. It’s only 61°. I have a growing list of errands because the last two days of torrential rain dampened my energy and enthusiasm so I stayed home, both days, but at least I did get dressed yesterday. I’ll be out and about today finishing and crossing the items off my list.

Earlier I was on the deck clearing debris off the chairs, emptying water from the candles hanging from the trees and sweeping the leaves and pine needles the wind left. Later I’ll refill the oriole feeders as the rain has dissolved the grape jelly. My outside decoration lights didn’t come on last night so I went down the cellar and reset the circuit breaker. The lights came right back on but a few minutes later went right back off. I did it again. So did the lights. I left them dark. Today I’ll reset the breaker and the timer.

We saw our first firefly. I think he’s really early as they don’t usually appear until the warm nights of August, but he was quite welcomed. We watched him as he moved about the yard. Fireflys are summer magic.

My imagination is one of my favorite places. When I was little, I was so many different people: a pirate, an explorer, a cowboy riding a horse disguised as the bottom banister of the cellar stairs, an Olympic athlete racing down the hill on my bike to win a medal and different characters from some of my favorite books. As I grew older and more cynical, I lived in a real world with real problems and being an imaginary anything seemed childish. Unbeknown to me, my imagination, hanging around in the background, was fighting for its life. Luckily it survived, and I found it again. It still thrives.