A gentle stirring comes later to this sleepyhead as the days run down and now the light retreats like spring snow warmed by the sun. It is a gentle melting away of the life and heart of summer. Yet what a joyous retreat it is along a purple tidal crest of flowering thyme that runs fragrant across meadows and sings to us in the melody of bees. Raindrops fall from high clouds to wash away long forsaken pollen dropped from spendthrift trees and nectar flows like wine out of the foaming flowers. All take the morning joy in one way or another but then afternoon call us to rest and wonder. It is a time to enjoy the heat and lie in the long grass hidden from view and look up at the sky into the never ending sheets of blue interspersed with high flying birds. To lie motionless there and snooze while the blue sky deepens and bruises into a heady scented dusk. To see stars appear one by one across the vast cosmos that is stretched above like the underbelly of a black whale. To hear owls, see the silhouette of bats; sense the rustle of deer on the dried Beech leaves of last autumn. To feel the itchy, persistence of midges and to see a million ants take to the air on a quest for new kingdoms to discover. To remain, to stay if it were possible in this idyll of nowness and drift asleep while the moon warded me from harm until again I arose in a daemon clear dawn 3 minutes later than yesterday. I love summer