May arrives like a promise kept. The peonies are open, the garden is full, and for one glorious month the year feels entirely within reach.
“Now every field is clothed with grass, and every tree with leaves; now the woods put forth their blossoms, and the year assumes its gay attire.” Virgil wrote that two thousand years ago and nothing has changed.
May is the month of spring that I love the most. It is not too hot, not too cool, there are still evenings when we can open the windows without turning green from the pollen and there is still a wee bit of a chill in the air. The garden beds that were bare in February, coming to life in March, growing towards the sun in April, are now in full bloom. Honestly, I live for my peonies — they are the only sure thing in the beds that I have.
I know that the beauty of May does not last. It peaks and passes in the span of a couple of weeks — blink and you miss it — and then I have to wait until next year. That is harder than it sounds. May teaches you the value of patience. And presence. You cannot store May up for later. You have to be in it while it is here.
What I Am Looking Forward To in May
The peonies in full bloom. The nubs I watched push through the mulch in March and April have become fat green buds and by the second week of May they will all be open — pink and fuchsia, beautiful and perfect. Each morning I rush outside to see which has bloomed overnight, then cut one or two and bring them inside. Their scent fills the room and after a few days they drop their petals on the kitchen table and the windowsill and I leave them there because they are still beautiful. The ruffled edges curl and as they start to turn brown I gather them up, let them fully dry and set them in a bowl so that I can enjoy their beauty in a different form for a few more weeks. There is nothing in the garden I love more. Not one thing.
The birds. By May the yard and the wreath are loud with chirping. I keep the bird bath filled and the feeders stocked so that I can enjoy their antics and their company throughout the day. They give me pause and an excuse — not that I need one — to stop and enjoy. I know the regulars by sight now: a pair of cardinals, the wrens in the wreath and a few doves that coo in the early morning as if to say, wake up, the day is waiting. And of course the beloved hummingbirds. I love these elusive little birds as much as I love my peonies. If I am sitting on the porch reading I can hear the buzz of their wings before I see them — and as I look up they remind me of a fairy.
The sense of possibility. There is something about May — the year is still young enough to feel unwritten. The resolutions of January are either habits by now or have quietly been abandoned, and in their place is something more honest: the life you are actually living, the garden you are actually growing, the person you are actually becoming. I have never been one for resolutions — I prefer reflection. May has a way of showing you who you really are, right now, in this season of your life.
On The Blog This Month
This month I have two posts that I think will resonate with you.
The first is about friendship — and I think every woman in midlife will find something of herself in it. I write about my own three great friends and what they have meant to my life, but the post goes further than that. Because friendship after 50 is complicated. The structures that used to bring women together — school, young children, the early years of a career — are largely gone by now, and many of us have moved at least once and had to start over. I write about that too. How to keep the friendships you have and how to find new ones, even when it feels like it is too late and the world has not exactly made it easy. I hope you will read it and tell me about yours.
The second is Classic Style After 50 — How I Dress and Why It Took Me This Long to Figure It Out. If you have ever stood in front of a full wardrobe and felt like you had nothing to wear — or bought something that felt right in the shop and wrong the moment you got it home — this one is for you. It is about the long, slow education of learning to dress for the woman you actually are, not the one you used to be or the one you thought you should become.
And if you missed it — You Have Earned This is a post I wrote for the woman who has been taking care of everyone else for so long she has forgotten to take care of herself. That is a permission slip worth reading any time of year.
What I Am Wearing This Month
May is the month I reach for dresses and will continue thru August. Floral, midi length, a light cardigan for the cool mornings or to keep my shoulders warm inside from the air conditioning. Simple jewelry — bracelets mainly, silver, platinum or enamel, stacked together. Clogs outside to water the plants or to reprimand the pups for barking at anything and everything that walks by and a low heeled sandal or flats for anywhere else. Nothing fussy. Midlife is about embracing who you are and dressing in a way that makes you feel good. Nothing more complicated than that.
What To Cook This Month
On my May table — Panzanella with Heirloom Tomatoes and Fresh Basil — the tomatoes are not quite at their August peak but they are delicious and the basil is fresh from the container on the back patio. The whole salad tastes like the beginning of summer. For dessert — this month I am baking with blueberries, blackberries, cherries and raspberries. There is something deeply satisfying about a bowl of summer berries turned into something sweet and delicious.
Sheri and I are back this month sharing seasonal sweet treats and Cindy and I will be sharing our inaugural Seasonal Table savory dish.
Links will be added as each recipe publishes through the month.
What To Read This Month
On my May reading list — two books for a month that deserves your full attention.
If you want something that puts language to the feeling May gives you — that sense of abundance, of the world offering itself up — read The Outermost House by Henry Beston. A man spends a year alone in a small house on the outer beach of Cape Cod, watching the seasons turn and the sea change and the birds come and go. It was written in 1928 and it has not aged a day.
If you want to be transported somewhere warm and unhurried — somewhere that smells of lavender and market stalls and very good olive oil — read Two Towns in Provence by M.F.K. Fisher. She is one of the great food and travel writers, and this memoir is her love letter to Aix-en-Provence: its cafés, its open-air markets, its people, the whole way of life in the south of France. She described it herself as a self-portrait — her picture, her map, of a place and therefore of herself.
One for the soul. One for the wanderer. As always, you cannot go wrong with either.
A Small Joy
The first morning in May when you walk out into the garden with your hot chocolate and the peonies are open. All of them. Overnight, as if they decided together to put on the biggest show of the season. You look at it and think: this. Right here. This is it. This is one of the little moments that brings the most joy — and costs nothing at all.
What does May mean to you? Are you a peony person or a rose person? Tell me in the comments — I would love to know what you are looking forward to this month.
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You might also enjoy:
The Hummingbird at the Peony — On Small Magic and Simple Pleasures
The Sniffer Walk: What My Dachshund Taught Me About Slowing Down
April — The Promise of Peonies
