I love summer.
Especially when it
takes over from spring with a soft, kind gesture that's only
to felt in the wind and to be seen in the deepening
colours. There is always a certain hesitation to leave
spring, as the summer carries many unexpected
surprises. This year (2004), summer seemed to be like the
beach. It was hidden in the spring, and there were mornings
that had the sounds of spring, and the feel of summer, and
then again, it was cold at awakening and it took till lunch
before summer understood she should be there.
It was
amazing that there weren't as many bugs as other years. Some
sorts I found when I turned old wood, and then I saw hundreds
flee under dark branches. Like they were more afraid of the
sun as other years. And there were many catterpillars.
So many that we had to cut the old appletree short. And
even when it had leaves on the new branches again, the
catterpillars found it. Completely out of
time. Amazing!
We had a heatwave. With the warmest
nights ever measured. And we had beautiful full moons...
and I even saw a falling star, as beautiful I've never seen
before.
The flowers sure loved this year. They kept
colouring the garden. Even more amazing: the young appletrees
flowered twice!
I loved walking in to the garden at
the early mornings, when people were still asleep, and smell
the roses. The strong overwhelming smell of the dogroses,
remembering me of the little perfume set my aunt sent from
england when I was about 6 or 7. And the warm light smell
of the red roses, that touched the heart and then faded
quickly. And oh... the honeysuckle, that flowered months at
length, and were such a welcome when I entered the garden,
regardless if it was morning or dark night.
And while I
enjoyed the changes every day, the season passed, the colours
grew darker, and the berried grew red.
And so we had
our summer harvest: loads of red berries, brambles and apples
from the neighbouring tree.
Untill the evenings came
earlier, and the wide sounds disappeared leaving only late
evening mumbling of the people in the gardens around us,
drinking a last glass of wine.
The honeysuckle has
berries now, and they're growing bigger and bigger. Between
the branches of the trees, I see other unknown branches,
carring some fruits. Maybe of a passionflower that was once
planted in the neighbouring garden. The fruits are swelling
and soon they'll fall down, leaving the first footprints of
autumn.
Thank you Inger for this lovely
gift!
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