Summer has zipped by so quickly, I wonder did it happen at all. We are in August, the last final gasp of the season. It doesn’t seem so long since the soaring great heights of the June Summer Solstice-when twilight teased us at 11 pm in the evening, and the racket of birds awoke us in the stealth of a Summer morning at 4 am. And here we are-the nights are closing in, the children think of school bags and new runners; the air turns faintly chill in the mornings. The trees are abundant with fruits and vegetables; the apple tree already has windfalls and the black currant bush has fruits dying back on the branch. How fleeting.
It is 1.30 am on a Sunday Morning in August and the air is as smooth as silk. A slight breeze lifts the leaves of the cherry tree on this fertile corner of Dublin and Meath; there is a waning moon. I can’t sleep; I peer out the window for grounding. A star twinkles above the plum tree. It flashes on and off and seems to move and wobble -in the manner of stars who are about to shoot across the sky. It doesn’t though but the following night the star is gone from it’s usual position . Maybe it did decide to flash across the sky. Who knows-everything seems so temporary these days, even nature, even the stars in the sky.
The fireworks dazzle the sky from neighbouring Luttrelstown Castle to the western sky as they do every Saturday night; It’s wedding season. My daughter knocks on the door to ask what the noise is; tonight the fireworks seem more flashy and urgent.
Autumn is coming, and with it the dip to Winter. In these days, when there is talk about climate change and all the politics that goes with it, I feel we need to simply listen to nature and the turn of the seasons and watch the stars in the sky. They will guide us, more than any political movement.