It seems that summer has finally arrived, dear friends! We have sunshine AND warmth, simultaneously. The snowcapped mountains contrast the bright green trees of new life. The flowers are blooming. The lawns need mowed. The mosquitoes are out with vengeance. The sun merely rests, but never sleeps.

And I am exhausted already.

When people hear that I live in Alaska, they immediately rush to how difficult winter must be with the snow and darkness. And while yes, if you ask me in February … or March … or April, I am certainly sick of the snow and darkness. But I find that summer is more exhausting. I try to capitalize on every bit of sunshine, leaving myself overtired and underfed, with no clean clothes and dishes piling up, because I would rather be outside.

Last week, I got to go on my first hike of the season, and I found myself enamored with the lupine on the trail, more so than the mountains ahead. I found myself thinking about how summer can feel like this race to the mountains, both literally to hike and camp and play, and metaphorically.

We can consume ourselves with the projects and tasks, moving at an almost frantic pace to do all the things. We move faster in the summer, even being able to drive and walk without considering the snow and ice under our feet.

But something about seeing the lupine right in front of me caught my attention. Instead of making my way to the top of the mountain, I wanted to stop and admire God’s handiwork in knitting together these beautiful little bonnets that signal the beginning of summer here in Alaska. To appreciate the graduated shades of purple, reaching for the sky, right in front of me.

If you’re like me and finding yourself tired from all your Alaska summer playing and chores and projects, remember to take a moment and just admire the flowers right in front of you. The mountains will be there next week and the week after and for many weeks after that. The flowers, on the contrary, will live out their lives and eventually find their way back to the dirt. They’ll rest there until next summer, when they come out again just for a bit.

Pause, relax and delight in the beauty of creation this season, not only for what you can accomplish, but what you can enjoy.

“Most people’s minds are almost always too busy for them to feel their skins being caressed by the wind or the sun.” — Mokokoma Mokhonoana

The Rev. Meredith Harber ministers at Christ Lutheran Church, 128 N. Soldotna Ave. Worship is at 10 a.m. on Sundays in person and on Facebook Live.