It would have been good to sit in the afternoon sun with a book for a while, and I did think about it, but there was work to be done so I didn't. Which felt satisfying in a way, because the work got done, but I did feel the tiniest bit wistful that it was the very last afternoon of summer out there.
It ended neatly, coinciding with the astrological end of summer. Today was still warm enough, but halfway through the day the sun went in and the washing felt the slightest bit damp and I thought, 'That's it, the season has turned.'
This evening, in a burst of gardening activity, I cut the grass before the rain sets it, pulled out the tomatoes, filled the kitchen window sill with all the green and orange ones, planted out some foxgloves I grew from seed, planted the elephant garlic and put some spare wood into the garage out of the way of the damp weather.
I have loved summer this year despite you-know-what. And maybe because of it. So many warm, sunny days, more time than usual spent in the garden, which has been lovely, and the garden has looked the better for it, and simple pleasures enjoyed. Walks with the boys and the dog, messing around in lakes, ice-creams and picnics, seeing friends outside and just a bit more thinking about the good things in life and really appreciating them.
And now it is autumn, and doubtless good things are ahead too. Let's not think about other stuff right now. I hope it was a good enough summer with you too. Onwards. CJ xx