A cool, sunny summer.

Everyone’s been warning me that where I currently live, summer can be scorchingly hot.

So far, though, none of my fears have materialised (I have neither air-conditioning, nor an electric fan, decent or otherwise). It’s been beautifully cool (sometimes even a little chillier in the mornings that I’d expected of summer), but sunny, or, at least, patchy. Rain is warmish summer rain, not the kind you can freeze to death in, or even catch cold. I live in what must have previously been a cloister for Catholic nuns, with solid walls and cold brick floor, so my Plan B of desperation was that I would bring my pillow and duvet downstairs and sleep on the stairs, ala the littlest Von Trapp girl from The Sound of Music. I have not yet had to resort to this.

I’m grateful for mild summer weather! 🙂


Long summer days.


Summer is life and warm, open hearts
lying on lawns and brand new starts
Summer is laughter and shorts and cotton
tops. And the grey and cold and dark forgotten.
Human beings are solar-powered; we run on sun
in daylight hours; come undone, un-spun,
in its long absence. We are thermal-powered,
we seek the heat of beach and sand, and flowered,
flourished in the glow of fire and of lush lazy days.

I’m grateful for sunlight.


Here comes the sun, oh yeah!

A million zillion songs are written

For the winter-weary sunlight-smitten

To get the pilling woollies out from under their skin.


It makes snow glitter like powdered mica.

Melts the ice from roads and roofs and hearts

And brings the warmth to smiles and parts

Of cafes hidden in grey and cold and shadow.


The sun transforms cities, citizens, cultures,

Anchors traits and tics in generations of souls.

Makes priorities, decides for us our daily roles,

And shapes everything from laughter to national character.