My First ever for real June
by Pete Fasciano, Executive Director 06/29/2025
I discovered my first real June. After kindergarten was in the books, June became the prominent marker for the return of those open days of Summer freedom. The previous June or any other time before kindergarten, was undefined – just part of a small child’s daily meandering curiosities and adventures; all in the amorphous openness of tiny kid-time – when all that was – was the now-ness of things. No past. No future beyond the ‘tomorrow’ day. No concerns beyond the present interest.
One early afternoon in this first fully recognized actual and for real month of June, I sat in a farm field under a warming Sun. It was a bucolic Andrew Wyeth setting somewhere deep in the back-country of Maine. I was – I am – in the present tense. As a little kid, it’s the only tense I know. An afternoon breeze whirlygigs along a dirt road, dancing with wispy Summerdust. The breeze raises up dust from the Earth. The dust makes the swirly-whirly wind dance visible. The high Sun’s fire raises up those towering clouds that only minutes later release a few scattered Sun showers. Raindrops glisten under the Sun as they return the Summerdust from the winds back to whence it came. The dusty dance is done.
In these moments of reverie, just letting the world happen, I am quietly bearing witness; a naïve observer; transfixed in wonderment, whimsy. I have just met the four original Greek elements of all creation. Earth, Wind, Fire, Water. I don’t know they are ancient elements. I don’t know they’re Greek. I don’t know they’re anything but that they are. The nature of nature – its constituent elements, including the nature of dust beyond this first impression as a durable memory – are things yet to be learned. Facts – and context – and understanding will surely come with time and other Junes. A lifetime of Junes later, I have collected and recollected, learned and relearned, shaped and reshaped shards of knowledge into insights, true and false, that on good days might even substitute for wisdom.
On that first actual and for real June afternoon, all I had was unmarked time and my little kid blank page agenda where attention is always immediate, before it develops a span. Today – I have tenses – and the turbulent tensions of time as my terrible taskmaster. What did I fail to do? What must I do next? When? Why? All things, living – and just being – eventually give in to the dust. Each of us has our collected dusty memories, our singular dusty destination. Until that final time of times, I will be. I will favor and savor my weightless present tense – the ineffably fulgent yet fleeting now of every moment, refinding redefining refining my reflections on the innocent wonderment and whimsy in that first dance with elemental existence – the dance of Summerdust in the perfect warmth of June.
And – as always –
Thank you for watching.
Thank you for listening to wfpr●fm.
And staying informed at Franklin●news.
Get this week's program guide for Franklin.TV and Franklin Public Radio (wfpr.fm) online http://franklin.tv/programguide.pdf
