(Almost) A Summer's Day

It’s a busy time of year but it was so beautiful this afternoon that I tore myself away from the computer with its reports, half-finished accounts and secretarial returns, to walk down the hill to Hove Park.

Bright blue skies, an unusually warm mid-April day at almost 70 degrees Farenheit and the flowers in our garden have started to come out...

 

...but our brown fingers are no competition to our neighbours Jim and Joyce who have true green-fingered skill and a passion for gardening. Their garden is an orderly riot of colour and good taste that probably adds value to every house in the street.

 

Walking down the hill towards Hove Park, there is evidence of vigorous life and growth everywhere, particularly the brilliant flowers – in fact once or twice as I passed gardens shielded from view by hedges or trees the enticing bouquet from hidden flowers sneaked out and tweaked my nose.

Certainly some of the blossoms and flowers are fading. The daffodils, still plentiful, are beginning to bow down while the blossom trees are starting to lose their blossoms.

 

Most of the deciduous trees are still bare and stark, their twisted limbs outlined against the sky. Whole streets are awaiting the restoration of their leafy canopies and, in some cases, the city council’s pruning seems to have been rather severe – a number one haircut!

 

 

But, elsewhere, there are signs of new growth and, looking closely, there are green buds and dwarf leaves. It won’t be long before all the city’s trees are wearing their summer green, providing shade and refuge for the birds.

 

In the park people are already sunbathing and enjoying games. Can you see the frisbee?

Clue: look closely at the seated couple in the middle of the picture.

 

 

 



 

There!

The earth is awakening and life is beginning anew.

An old friend of ours went home today. When I say old, she would have been 95 years old if she had lived another three months. She slipped away peacefully this morning at 6.30am. Fr Kevin had given her the last rites a day earlier and we visited her yesterday afternoon. She was not conscious of our presence and the only sign that she was still alive was the occasional movement of the throat as she breathed. Because the hearing is the last sense to go, we prayed the Our Father, Hail Mary and Glory Be... at her bedside and said our farewells.

She was not destined to enjoy the summer in all its glory - but I’m sure her destination was infinitely more enjoyable.