I might as well not go to bed. It’s bad enough when there’s a full moon but the summer solstice plays even worse havoc with my senses and I can hardly sleep. I’m reluctant to give up on the longest day of the year even for the shortest night.
I can’t help it. When I’m not in front of the computer I live so tuned to the natural rhythms I can’t ignore them. They’re the antidote to nerdy damage from technology and definitely balm for flicker tired eyes. They have such an impact on me sometimes I fear I’m supernatural!
And at this special time the light outside is still laying loveliness on everything long after I’m ready for shut-eye. There hardly seems time for dark and it’s too light and shining to go to bed even after dusk.
The stupendous evening skyworks paint the barley fields with brushstrokes of apricot gold. It highlights the magical white of the gliding owl and illuminates the faces of the roses who smile and tease me with their luminosity.
How can I shut my eyes on it?
The glassy sea beyond the barley strides across the horizon with a twinkle of ship lights. And a soft fox shape slinks through fields with just a waver in the froth of fronds giving him away.
But eventually the detail gives way to silhouette and I can no longer see the waves upon the sea or the barley. Just smell the intermingling scents of warm corn and brine and a waft of honeysuckle in the bedroom window whilst I lie there pretending that the season isn’t stirring something in me that’s not human!