Sweet Solitude

There is something truly glorious about the quiet middle of the evening, during the summer months, in an English garden.  The heat which stifled you during the day has gone and there remains just greenery bathed in a golden sunlight which is almost clichéd.

You are transported to another time when words like glorious were still redolent and, as the sun leisurely takes a place on the horizon, you can’t help but be infected by its calming influence. Your head is awash with predictable metaphors and even the weeds and compost bin look vaguely charming. The jobs which might normally worry you seem manageable but better left for tomorrow.  You can sigh gently until the bottom of your lungs are  bare. In your contented exhale go all your worries and you breathe in the scents of summer; the fresh hose water on the path, the rosemary and tomato plants. Birds and children chatter nearby.

In this moment you are always alone.  The sweet solitude is an essential part of the experience – any small talk or comradery would shatter the fragile moment.  This is a blissful pause.


Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s