The flower associated with July is the Larkspur.
Below – Bonnie Peacher: “Larkspur”
In the words of one writer, “It [July] was named by the Roman Senate in honour of Roman general Julius Cæsar, it being the month of his birth.”
Below – Andrea di Pietro di MarcoFerrucci (1465-1526): “Julius Caesar” (marble)
Art for July – Andre Smirnov: “The Month of July (Study)”
“What a beautiful, sunny morning. It makes you happy to be alive, doesn’t it? We can’t let the sun
outshine us! We have to beam, too!”
Below – Daniel Urbanik: “The Sunny Morning”
Art for July – Paul Joseph Constantin Gabriel: “In the Month of July”
“A Poem in July”
by Samuel Amadon
I felt perfected along the rectangle
By its ragged side
Fences trees and mist dropping
Some space for the flowers
I set an image in my head where
Bushes in their out of focus
Made a green dearth about the door
I wanted to do a book on
Pages left in the heat or rain
But my desire seemingly disappeared
Picked up by a car in the middle of
A pack of cigarettes
This trip into the forest
The trees trading with memory to
Frame the various breaks
The pleasures of small lawns cut
Behind the mower with my eyes
Running the grass blades
We don’t really get any older
I can see what that means
Below – Vincent van Gogh: “Newly Mown Lawn with a Weeping Tree”
This Date in Art History: Born 1 July 1858 – Willard Metcalf, an American painter.
Below – “Cornish Hills”; “On the Suffolk Coast”; “The Ten Cent Breakfast”; “May Night”; “My Wife and Daughter”; “Indian Summer, Vermont.”
Musings in July: Bill Bryson
“They talk about big skies in the western United States, and they may indeed have them, but you have never seen such lofty clouds, such towering anvils, as in Iowa in July.”
Below – John Poon: “Summer Clouds”
Art for July – John Singer Sargent: “Blue Gentians”
by Cristin O’Keefe Aptowicz
The figs we ate wrapped in bacon.
The gelato we consumed greedily:
coconut milk, clove, fresh pear.
How we’d dump hot espresso on it
just to watch it melt, licking our spoons
clean. The potatoes fried in duck fat,
the salt we’d suck off our fingers,
the eggs we’d watch get beaten
’til they were a dizzying bright yellow,
how their edges crisped in the pan.
The pink salt blossom of prosciutto
we pulled apart with our hands, melted
on our eager tongues. The green herbs
with goat cheese, the aged brie paired
with a small pot of strawberry jam,
the final sour cherry we kept politely
pushing onto each other’s plate, saying,
‘No, you. But it’s so good. No, it’s yours.’
How I finally put an end to it, plucked it
from the plate, and stuck it in my mouth.
How good it tasted: so sweet and so tart.
How good it felt: to want something and
pretend you don’t, and to get it anyway.
Below – Linda Anderson: “Family Picnic”
Musings in July: Francis Thompson
“The Summer looks out from her brazen tower,
Through the flashing bars of July.”
Below – Sir Edward Coley Burne-Jones: “Danae Watching the Building of the Brazen Tower”
Art for July – John Melhuish Strudwick: “Oh Swallow, Swallow”
A Poem for July
“I know I am but summer to your heart (Sonnet XXVII)”
by Edna St.Vincent Millay
I know I am but summer to your heart,
And not the full four seasons of the year;
And you must welcome from another part
Such noble moods as are not mine, my dear.
No gracious weight of golden fruits to sell
Have I, nor any wise and wintry thing;
And I have loved you all too long and well
To carry still the high sweet breast of Spring.
Wherefore I say: O love, as summer goes,
I must be gone, steal forth with silent drums,
That you may hail anew the bird and rose
When I come back to you, as summer comes.
Else will you seek, at some not distant time,
Even your summer in another clime.
Below – Stanislav Zhukovsky: “July Night”
Musings in July: Ada Louise Huxtable
“Summer is the time when one sheds one’s tensions with one’s clothes, and the right kind of day is jeweled balm for the battered spirit. A few of those days and you can become drunk with the belief that all’s right with the world.”
Below – Herbert James Draper: “By Summer Seas”
Art for July – Dante Gabriel Rossetti: “The Day Dream”
Musings in July: Edward Moore
“Tis now the summer of your youth: time has not cropped the roses from your cheek, though sorrow long has washed them.”
Below – John William Waterhouse: “Gather Ye Rosebuds While Ye May”
Below – Childe Hassam: “July Night”