Friday, August 10, 2007
Walking on Thursday
The green lane to the top of the hill is overgrown again with tall grass, cool, even in the hottest part of the day. In early morning the grass is bent low with the dew. Water brushes ginger fur.
On top of the hill it is hot, even early in the morning. The scent from heather hangs heavy in the warm. It smells like honey. Bees work busily through the purple tracery of fine flowers, legs golden and heavy with pollen. Butterflies rise in small clouds of colour and dragonflies rattle their glassy wings. Big as birds they hover in the gorse.
The early morning low sun makes an oasis of shadow just big enough for a small hot cat.