Ah, the summer sunshine. It makes you feel so different
doesn’t it? So much happier, more alive. If only you could capture it and seal
it in a bottle, keep it close in a dim cupboard then open the doors when the
winter evenings arrive and light up the room with stored sunshine.
Yes, the summer sunshine; have you ever followed the last few
rays to find out where it’s going to end up? I have.
This time it ended up
dancing past my beer glass to a forgotten corner of the garden. The corner next
to the shed, behind the caravan, where the empty pots and planters languish and
the tumbled leaves are rarely swept away. The corner where, years ago, I
spotted a small, brown, lizard soaking up the summer’s heat before I got too
close, sending it scuttling into the hedge.
No lizard this time as I watched the golden light shiver,
the soft breeze flicking at the leaves and making their shadows dance, the
aluminium facing of the caravan rippling like waves on metallic water. Such a
peaceful feeling, this last of the sun – or maybe it was the beer.
When the winter comes this corner will turn dark and damp
and I doubt it’ll see much sunshine. The leaves will become sodden, turn to
mulch, and the concrete will become blackened with winter mould waiting for the
sunshine to return and bleach it clean away again. I won’t go down there to sit
and catch the last of the watery winter sunshine; it’ll have no heat in that
corner.
If only I could open that cupboard and let some sunshine
come tumbling out. Oh well, I’ll have to fill my cupboard with beer instead for consolation.
That should help the winter pass.
Vicky Sutcliffe on FB
ReplyDeletelike x
Andrew Height
DeleteMe too Vicky. Thanks.