Thoughts for a bank holiday

I always feel sadness when the August Bank holiday comes round. The summer is passing and the holiday marks its passing. The evenings are slowly but surely drawing in and the fruits and grains that were made in spring and grown in summer are almost ripe. Most mornings are misty, but the mist often banished as the sun comes up. The evenings are damp and there is dew on the grass. It is a sad time but we had a good summer even if the sun did not shine every day, summer was light on our bodies, opening our doors. Summer is almost gone, and the winter is coming on.

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