Swifts and summers...

The heat of the day gone, I sit outside in the slight warm breeze and stare into the sky.  Just an empty blue sky on a warm summer’s evening. No, not quite empty. High above the swifts dart their black arrow bodies pointing upwards as they glide deftly past each other and, missing every time, screech warnings of their passing. Higher still the contrails of aeroplanes crisscross the cloudless emptiness; gleams of silver vapour slowly dissipating into the blue.

I sip my beer.

Back on earth a teenage girl of around nineteen passes by dressed almost only in a thought, behind a hedge a neighbour’s newspaper rustles as she turns the page, the family across the way dine al fresco on their doorstep and a sultry mother in her summer frock leans lazily cross-legged against the doorframe as she watches the day dissipate.

I take another sip of my beer, trying to make myself invisible and remembering other sunny days, interpreting these few moments in my own way as this world joins with those others as they all become one.

I love summer.