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Post by blondie on Sept 12, 2016 11:58:05 GMT
God's Day and Night, Winter and Summer, War and Peace; Surfeit and Hunger.
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Post by florence on Sept 12, 2016 12:35:15 GMT
Nothing better than ending hot Summer's day, than taking this short walk around my garden.
You can smell thus heat rising from earth, when mixing with cooler night air.
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Post by fizzy on Sept 13, 2016 14:42:22 GMT
My ideal Summer day for reading on my porch.
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Post by dieseldyke on Sept 13, 2016 15:04:36 GMT
Always Summer person  |
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Post by indigo on Sept 13, 2016 15:34:38 GMT
In childhood, mostly spent nearly all my Summer holidays with my aunt in Wales.
We caught Mackerel and cooked this fish in her boat.
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Post by kizz on Sept 13, 2016 15:47:51 GMT
For me, Summer doesn't end until tomatoes disappear, from my local market stalls.
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Post by jet on Sept 14, 2016 10:30:58 GMT
Indian Summer in life, should be both little sunny and sad; during this season.
Infinite for wealth and depth in tone, but never hustled.
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Post by nantosuelta on Sept 14, 2016 12:24:08 GMT
Special Summer holiday for me. Haven't known myself much relaxed in years.
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Post by widdershins on Sept 14, 2016 12:31:22 GMT
Winding down from Summer puts me in this heavy philosophical mood.
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Post by candy on Sept 14, 2016 14:08:25 GMT
For me: Summer will be pure grey, mother-of-pearl grey and very pale grey. My big statement for Summer.
We then have light blue, light turquoise and much pink.
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Post by lemon on Sept 14, 2016 14:37:54 GMT
September my favourite month, particularly here in East Sussex. First felt in childhood, when you get this wonderful day in September, you think . . o o (This could be one last, because Summer now being nearly over).
Should you get this wonderful day in May, you think . . o o (Well, there's more forthcoming).
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Post by pharlapjones on Sept 14, 2016 14:49:44 GMT
Integrity so perishable in Summer months for success.
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Post by barbie on Sept 14, 2016 19:10:46 GMT
Now Summer in your youth, time hasn't cropped roses from your cheek; though sorrow long has washed them.
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Post by lolly on Sept 14, 2016 19:49:23 GMT
This mare set off for home with same speedy swallow, going smoothly and silently. Never dreamed about motion, fluent, graceful and ambient, soft alike breeze flitting over flowers but swift like Summer lightening.
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Post by sassy on Sept 14, 2016 20:00:26 GMT
Time dissolves in Summer anyway; days long and weekends longer. Hours get thin and watery when you're emersed in some great book, you'd never otherwise have time reading.
Senses become sharper, something about moist air, bright light and fruit in season, where memories stir and startle.
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