--- title: Improvement Era description: Monthly periodical of the Mormon church, 1897 onward. This library holds the issues of November 1897 to December 1930. authors: - Nephi Anderson collections: - periodicals tags: - magazine - improvement-era periodical: Improvement Era volume: 8 number: 8 published: 1905-06 publisher: Young Men’s Mutual Improvement Associations publisher_place: Salt Lake City language: en type: magazine reference: 'Nephi Anderson, "A Day in June," *Improvement Era* 8, no. 8 (June 1905): 567–568.' source: url: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0808unse transcription: Transcribed from the Internet Archive scan of each issue (the item for each issue is named in the issue's own source); unnumbered advertising leaves are omitted, printed page numbers are kept as page markers. identifier: improvementera0808unse start_page: 567 end_page: 568 rights: status: public-domain basis: US publication 1930 or earlier (published 1905-06) source: https://archive.org/details/improvementera0808unse publication_year: 1905 note: The Internet Archive item metadata carries a blanket "© Copyright by Intellectual Reserve, Inc." notice. The library owner judged it inapplicable because this issue was published in 1905, before 1931; a scan-level notice does not restore copyright. --- # A Day in June A DAY IN JUNE. BY NEPHI ANDERSON, ASSOCIATE EDITOR OF THE MILLENNIAL STAR." "Come forth into the light of things, Let nature be your teacher." The spring has been cold and backward, but now the clouds remain away for days at a time, permitting the rays of the sun to warm the earth and bring out from their winter sleep the buds and blossoms. I leave behind me the noisy city streets with their smoke and grime and busy mass of humanity, and go into the quiet fields and sit down in the grass. The hawthorn is out, and fills the summer air with the sweet and delicious odor of its blossoms. The birds are singing in trees and bushes. A velvety green carpet covers the earth, broken here and there by a house, a tall chimney, a clump of trees, a hedge, a wall, and a winding road, gleaming white in the sun. At my feet the daisy looks out to the blue above. There is a haze in the distance, but the sunlight comes streaming down from heaven, imparting warmth to the balmy air and the grassy bank. After I have rested, and let the beauty of the scene distil upon me, I open my book and read: This is the light of Christ. As also he is in the sun, and the light of the sun and the power thereof by which it was made. As also the light of the stars, and the power by which they are made. And the earth also, and the power thereof; even the earth upon which you stand. And the light which now shineth, which giveth you light, is through him who enlighteneth your eyes, which is the same light that quickeneth your understandings; Which light proceedeth forth from the presence of God to fill the immensity of space. — The light which is in all things; which giveth light to all things: which is the law by which all things are governed; even the power of "God who sitteth upon his throne, who is in the bosom of eternity, who is in the midst of all things. I close my book. God, then, is light as well as love. I know that all this beauty around me —the grass, the flowers, the balmy air, are but manifestations of the light of the sun —and now am I told that its light "proceedeth forth from the presence of God." This little blue flower which I pluck is an expression of an infinite creative force. The existence of the blossom is brief, but back of it is a power that is everlasting. Through these little things that are so close to me, and so transient, I see out beyond into the infinite light and love that God my Father sheds forth upon me. I feel the pulse of his power come to me, in subtle waves, and my heart is flooded with the love of a Father for a son. My book remains closed. I see past the bush and the cloud, and into the blue space of heaven. The mortal veil is thin, and the connection is close between the seen and the unseen. There seems to be a hush in the earth-life about me, but I hear a still, small voice tell me this: If sorrow weigh you down, take heart again; for he that, year by year, brings dead forms to life and clothes them with beauty, has a springtime of his own, not of earthly seasons, but of God's reckoning, when the cold and darkness and silence shall flee away before the voice of his power, and he shall bring forth your loved ones into the springtime of eternal life and radiant beauty. Then shall the veil be completely lifted, and you shall see, not the •^temporal, that today stands in beauty, and tomorrow is like a withered leaf, but the more enduring substance of celestial beings. And your dear ones, to whom your soul cleaves, shall never more get beyond the sight of your eyes, or the sound of your voice. Trust God, His summer shall come, and with it the fruition of all your hopes. The sun sank into the hazy west, and I walked slowly back to — the city and to my work but the beauty of the day is with me still. Millennial Star. Ijiverpool, England.