A Letter to July

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Posted at the turn of the month | from Nicky at The Calendar Year

June has slipped away quietly, the way it always does.

I kept meaning to notice it more – the long evenings, the roses, the quality of light at nine o’clock that makes everything look filtered and slightly unreal. And I did notice some of it. A blackbird singing so late it felt almost eerie. The first strawberries, slightly warm from sitting in the sun. A week where the sky stayed blue for so long I stopped expecting it to change.

But June also had its noise. Its rushing about. Its lists. It had a heatwave that sapped all energy while the world still expected everything to carry on as normal. So I’m writing this as a small act of intention – a letter to July, before it arrives and I’ve already let half of it go.

What I’m Leaving Behind

June was a month of abundance – the hedgerows were full, the days were longest, and there was that bittersweet moment around the summer solstice where you know, even as summer is properly arriving, that the light has already started its slow retreat. I find that oddly comforting but also a little melancholy. We all need a little melancholy. Nothing lasts, and that’s exactly why it’s worth paying attention.

I tried to do a proper declutter this month – with mixed results. A couple of boxes of books went to the charity shop. Their space on the shelves were filled with some more books that appeared from somewhere, but, I’m choosing to call that progress.

The recipe I made from the seasonal kitchen was a cold cucumber and mint soup that felt impossibly elegant for something I made in twelve minutes. I’m counting that as a win.

So it’s time to say Hello to July

July feels like the month summer stops promising and starts delivering. It can be golden and generous, or grey and quietly disappointing – and somehow both versions feel exactly right for this country. I wanted to mention sport in this months letter. When I was planning this blog, having a section on sport didn’t seem to fit with the seasonal, nature-driven theme. But I decided to go with it, because for me, sporting events mark the seasons almost as much as the flowers and the birds. July, to me, means Wimbledon, cricket, and lazy afternoons in the sun. I love to listen to the sounds of tennis and cricket on the radio. Both have a slow, intentionality about them.

Here’s what I’m planning to pay attention to this month.

📖 Reading the Season

This month I’m reading The Moomins Midsummer Madness. I have a strange relationship with the Moomins. I think it’s because of the 1990s TV cartoon that I always found a bit creepy. But last year I watched a documentary about the author Tove Jansson, and I decided to give Moominland another chance. There’s something about the whimsical world and how it connects to nature that I think will fit with who I am now and help me to slow down and notice more, which is, of course, exactly the point. I want a book that asks me to sit with it. Something set in summer, or something that feels like summer: unhurried, warm, with an ending that doesn’t want to be rushed. July books / Reading the Season

What are you reading this July? Do you have any summer recommendations? Let us know in the comments.

🌿 Out in Nature

July is the height of wildflower season, and I want to go for a walk somewhere I haven’t walked before – identify the wildflowers. July nature / Out in Nature. Meadows, if I can find them. Verges if I can’t. There’s something happening in the hedgerows right now that I keep meaning to photograph and never quite do.

I also want to watch for swifts – I’ve seen them arriving, but I know they don’t stay long. Their screeching is a memorable soundtrack to the summer. Every year, I miss their departure. This July, I’m paying attention. July birds / Birds of the Month

🌙 Looking Up

Did you see the beautiful strawberry moon at the end if June? It was magnificient. Worth waiting for the late arrival of dusk to see it. I’m really looking forward to the night sky this month. July brings some genuinely beautiful things to the night sky July night sky / Looking Up – including the start of the Perseid meteor shower build-up towards the end of the month. I’m not an astronomer. I don’t have a telescope. But I do have a garden and a blanket and a willingness to stand in the dark feeling appropriately small.

If you’ve never tried meteor watching, July is a good month to start practising looking up before the Perseids peak in August.

🍳 From the Seasonal Kitchen

I want to cook something that involves July recipes / From the Seasonal Kitchen the least possible heat, because July kitchens are their own particular kind of hostile. I’m thinking a proper summery salad situation – something with stone fruit, or fresh herbs, or both. Something that feels like it belongs on a table outside, even if I end up eating it inside because it’s inexplicably drizzling.

I also want to bake something once, despite the heat July baking / The Seasonal Oven – probably something with raspberries, because they’re ridiculous right now and I feel obliged to honour that.

✂️ Make Something

This month’s craft intention July crafts / Make Something is deliberately small: I want to press some flowers and actually do something with them, rather than pressing them, forgetting about them for four months, and finding them in a book I’m trying to read. A card, maybe. Or a little framed thing for the kitchen.

Small things count. That’s the whole point of this.

📓 Words & Wondering

July’s journalling prompts July prompts / Words & Wondering have one I keep coming back to: What does this summer actually feel like, as opposed to how I expected it to feel?

I think that’s the question. Because we carry ideas about summer – what it should look like, how we should feel, what we should be doing – and the real season is almost always different. Quieter, or louder. More domestic. More surprising. More ordinary, in the best sense.

I’m also going to try writing outside this month. Even once. Just to see. July nature journalling / The Nature Journal

🌱 Tend to Yourself

One small wellness intention for July July wellness / Tend to Yourself: I want to sit outside in the morning before I look at my phone. Just for ten minutes. Just to hear what’s happening before the day tells me what I’m supposed to care about.

That’s it. That’s the whole plan.

An Invitation

That’s my July. Loose, intentional, paying attention where I remember to.

I’d love to know what you’re noticing this month — what you’re reading, making, cooking, or looking forward to. Leave a comment below, or hit reply if you found your way here via the newsletter. This is meant to be a conversation, not a broadcast.

Welcome to July. There’s still so much of the year ahead.

Explore everything July has to offer →

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Let us know in the comments what your plans are for July. What books do you always turn to in July? Do you have any recipe recommendations with seasonal produce? What does this month mean for you?