Caught a clip of all the druids dancing around Stonehenge on TV, and remembered it was the summer solstice. The longest day of the year. The "official" start of summer. But the BBQ's been going for about a month now, the kiddie pool has been filled and refilled, and we've had a few weekends of stellar weather. This is really just a technicality.
Summer opens up with so much potential, yet goes by so fast. We're already at June 21? Where did the time go? I have an arm's-length list of activities, outings, vacation destinations planned, wine to drink ... OK, I started that last part already: I popped open some of Norman's Melon to go with my chicken bundles for Father's Day. Delicious. Seriously, I don't think there's a food out there this wine CAN'T handle.
Despite a family outbreak of hay fever/headcolds, this glorious evening we found ourselves outside, relishing the cool breeze and lingering heat of the day coming off the patio stones. Hubby serenaded us with Oasis and Black Crowes on his guitar, the Doodle pretended she was all the princesses at the same time ("You can do it, too, Mummy. Who do you want to be? Oh ... I wanted to be that.") and the Smurf busied herself trying to get the bubble wand, sufficiently loaded with goo, into her mouth.
I took a deep breath and hoped the clock would stop long enough for me to fully savour this moment. The setting sun. The muted call of mourning doves. Rustling of leaves, hum of bumblebees in the lawn.
Note to winter: kindly don't harsh my mellow by showing up early this year, OK?