I grew up on lakefront property in the Midwest. Behind our home, across the street, was a field where a local farmer planted corn in springtime. By midsummer, the corn would be over knee-high, and abundant wildflowers would be growing between the corn and a property where my grandmother lived in her old age. With sheer delight, I can still recall the wild daisies and other colorful flowers that grew up along the rows of corn.
The daisies were fleeting, often dampened by strong summer storms or beaten down by a tractor monitoring the crops for fall harvest, but in my memory, they have grown even wilder and have spread and sprouted up across the years. The daisies carried a voice of their own that has grown within me. It is a voice of prophetic care and love for all of God’s creation.
I think of the daisies in full bloom because I have continued to look for them, for such nature and such summer surprises, in other places where I have lived. I missed the daisies in the city where I served as pastor, when there was only an asphalt parking lot and no daisies appeared to delight us on our land of worship and service. When I served and lived among God’s beloved poor in another city’s center, there were no wildflowers popping up in the cracks of the sidewalk. Only vomit, trash, and drug needles covered the walkways in those years. I looked along the gutters, along the trash containers, along the blanketed people sleeping on the streets, and saw no signs of wild daisies in summer. That neighborhood was labeled a food desert, but I knew it to be a wildflower desert as well. As far as I looked, there was not even one wild, lush, miraculous daisy.
Last summer, I drove by my childhood home. The daisies no longer grow there, the area of the wildflowers completely overtaken by weeds. I did not see a single wild daisy, but I know for certain they existed, and I am keenly aware of our environmental crisis that has changed even this place, where my young soul was encouraged by the beauty in the simple and gracious gift of a row of wild daisies. Perhaps our world is at a tipping point, a time of loss in seeing such gifts of nature and beauty. The daisies are gone, and fewer birds have created a smaller choir of chirping and singing. The lakes have grown more polluted, and the noises from human manufacturing dim the voices of local wildlife.
I know the daisy’s absence is nothing compared to the lands that have burned in our nation or to the changes in our water systems and in the air we breathe. I know that the increasing floods, tornadoes, and fires of summer have changed landscapes and the lives and imaginations of children. We are much more likely to scroll to a photo of nature on our phones than to peer in curiosity into a neighboring field.
In my memories of the wildflowers, the surprise is that underneath the delicate petals of summer, the daisy holds for me a prophetic challenge to care for what I remember — the gift of nature, our planet, and all who will make their home here in the future. No matter where the summer takes us, as we vacation in high mountains or a cabin in the woods, water ski on small lakes or bask in alone time in the backyard, we need to look at the nature around us and ponder the mystery of God’s creative planet and the well-being of our generations to come. May we all behold the glory of nature in whatever childhood neighborhood our memories hold dear.
Questions:
How can we learn and speak about the issues of our common environment?
How can our voice become a prophetic witness on behalf of God’s creation?
In Praise of Summer
Wildflowers and daisies…Bless the Lord!
Small lakes, running streams, and backyard pools…Bless the Lord!
Majestic mountains and the silence of deep woods…Bless the Lord!
Wild squawking ducks and local fowl…Bless the Lord!
Cherished landscapes and backyard vegetable gardens…Bless the Lord!
Bird nests, mole holes, and backyard picnics…Bless the Lord!
Summer heat and windstorms…Bless the Lord!
Gentle breezes and thick humidity…Bless the Lord!
Nightcrawlers, rich topsoil, and budding growth…Bless the Lord!
Our sacred call to protect nature…Bless the Lord!
Sunburns, hammocks, and soulful resting…Bless the Lord!
Basking in God’s creative gifts…Bless the Lord!
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About:
Rev. Ronald Patrick Raab, C.S.C., serves as the religious superior of Holy Cross House, our retirement and medical facility at Notre Dame, Indiana. He is an award-winning author, blogger, and visual artist. Learn more: ronaldraab.com
Artwork:
Fr. Ron created this painting a few months ago. Fr. Ron’s artwork has been published in parishes, dioceses, and ecumenical settings around the world.
Published June 2025
