June brought us a heatwave and it was a bit too hot for me truth be told - I am much happier in cooler weather. We had 3 consecutive days of temperatures over 30 degrees and as the house felt too warm and airless I sought out the shade in the back garden. It was even too hot to knit so instead I read from a gentle and lyrical book, a perfect read for a shady spot under a tree full of birdsong; 'Birds, Art, Life, Death' by Kyo Mclear. But reading doesn't really help my get-up-and-go as it tends to make me dozy - I think years of reading before sleep at night has conditioned my brain this way. Though I may not have got as much done as hoped for, I am not complaining. That kind of heat is a rare treat and one to be savoured:
I love the start of hot days, with the haziness that appears just after dawn when it's already warm and balmy and you just know the day is going to be a scorcher. It brings to mind my 1970's childhood holidays in Cornwall or Devon and the promise of a long day on the beach building sandcastles, splashing about in rockpools and eating warm, slightly gritty sandwiches, because somehow the sand always managed to sneak into even the most tightly sealed tupperware container. Speaking of food, it's been too hot to eat much so we've been living off salads. Mostly impromtu combinations of avocados, tomatoes, rocket, spinach, french beans, goat cheese and whatever else is lurking in the fridge like a smattering of left-over roasted beetroot. Light and summery food that doesn't involve standing near a cooker, that makes me happy.
I also love the evenings of hot days; the hum of the lawnmower from 2 gardens over; the song of a blackbird (still so vocal at this time of year) proclaiming his right to this patch; the drifting smoke from a barbecue somewhere nearby coupled with the smells of flowers, dusty paving and sun-cream, all mingled into the unmistakable scent of summer. The summer evening sunlight paints my kitchen with a rich gold that is so particular to this time of year. Then there's that magical shade of blue that appears after sunset, before it's fully dark, so luminous and so difficult to capture or re-create. Summer days like these have a magic - probably because here in England they are not so common and so have the power to transport us back years, or maybe it's just me being nostalgic. Either way I have enjoyed them.
With July cooler days have arrived again and it's a more comfortable knitting temperature which is good because I'm busy auditioning yarns for the next pattern. I'm sure you can guess from the yarn colour which kind of animal I'm working on :)
I'll keep you posted on progress, but with the summer holidays approaching it is likely to be early autumn before it's ready to share.