It’s quiet and calm outside, nine-thirty and still full daylight. The solstice is past now and I’m conscious that the nights will very soon start lengthening again, racing inexorably towards the hours of darkness at next sun stand still. At my age, that’s no longer something to look forward to, it’s too much of a reminder of the dying of the light, the fate that waits for us all. Even though it’s still summer and there’s still greenery and warmth to enjoy.
I’m far too melancholy these days.