As a little girl I learned to hide my flaws and weaknesses. I protected them with secrecy and I'm not sure why.  I didn't know then that there's no possibility of physical perfection, or of being good at everything. I didn't know that asking for help is a satisfying option. And I was lucky to discover how freeing the guidance of kind and generous mentors is.

Welcome back. It's hard to believe the summer of 2017 is about to become a memory: the partial eclipse of the sun, a wedding, the birth of twins, visits with friends, vacationing with family, hot air ballooning, laughter on the beach, fishing from the dock, compelling word games, gardening, tennis, great books, excitement, solitude, and many insights. I snapped photos of much of it. I enjoy being the photographer. I don't like being the one photographed. The images argue with my reality.

It’s that time of year again — the languorous days of summer. Don’t you just love that word? I had to look it up to be sure it means what I imagine it does. To be languorous is to be dreamy, lackadaisical, and unhurried. When someone is languorous, she's lying around, daydreaming, soaking in the beauty of nature, possibly fanning herself lazily. Sound self-indulgent? Absolutely! And as the long days of summer arrive and the graceful white egrets return to fish in the pond, languorous sounds wonderful.

We all yearn to be in a relationship where we are loved unconditionally, where we can be completely unconcerned about social correctness: be chatty or silent, caring or self-centered, moody or calm, serious or silly, focused or distracted — to have all these freedoms, and still be completely adored. Our pets fulfill that tall order. And in doing so they teach us how to love unconditionally.