The following is a short essay I wrote on the prompt of “summer” for Sunday Assembly Atlanta. I read it to everyone this evening!
It’s morning on a hot, Georgia summer day. The moisture of dew on cut, green grass is matched by the humidity in the air. And the sweat on people’s brows. We’re standing still, giving our full attention*, as a man bellows out instructions over loudspeakers before giving us the go.
The sun is at that perfect angle where I can’t lower my hat further without obscuring my vision. I wish we could practice facing the other way, but squinting is my only recourse. I try to remember if I put on sunscreen while I got ready; my reddening skin by the evening will inform me of my carelessness.
I’m quickly moving with and between two people now, in a line, as one often is in this sort of activity. That line might not always be straight, but hopefully that’s by design: made to be a part of a cohesive whole, driving down the field with greater purpose. We’re brothers and sisters in arms, fighting with precision against the tyrannical forces of disorder.