Drought sitting

The sunshine eclipsed the fields but blessed our table this time

I can hear red squirrels having a good old munch on fir cones either side of this footpath where I sit. The cone flakes are sheared off by their tiny sharp teeth. They fall and make the lightest clatter of sounds as the shredded pieces bounce off branches and tree trunk scattering downwards. I can tell by the sounds that the squirrels are not scared of me because these clickety clicks are not fading out as they back away through the trees. 

The sounds they make just happens to sound so like rain I keep thinking it really must be starting. You know that sound, as rain starts off. It’s actually becoming a distant memory now. 

The sky is a heavy grey you see, so you’d think it would rain any minute. They forecast a storm last night again. But for the hundredth time they got it wrong. I wanted to believe them but my heart of hearts knew it was just talk, wishful thinking.

For three whole days now there has been no sun. It looks as if it will rain and nothing at all happens. The clouds are holding their breath. The plants are gasping. They are pale. Some of the taller grasses are even a tinge of smoky blue. Leaves curl inwards to save any moisture they can keep to themselves. It’s a question of survival.

We used to get heavy rain sometimes for three days and then afterwards, constant sun. Not anymore. The pattern has broken. It’s the first October in three decades that the bathroom window stays wide open at night, all night, to help keep the house cooler. The mosquitos are here too. They are usually gone when the nights are cold in late October. I have never understood how or where mosquitos go to be always so annoyingly on standby.

I see the farmer has been and cut back the weeds growing along the border next to the vines. I am glad that yesterday I filmed the path beautifully sunken, a meter deep in a magical parting engraved in the grass, created solely by the memory of stranger’s footsteps.

It’s a family weekend. Youngest son is back. We went for a curry last night in a restaurant where lots of different wine bottles are backlit, creating such a lovely light. Citrus, lime, lemon, orange softly glowing walls. It felt homely and just the place to catch up after not seeing each other for two months. 

The warmth might not be in the sun today, it certainly hasn’t heated up the shower water! No, the warmth is sitting at the table, talking over coffee. 

Families, smiles, hearts, memories, histories, childhood in a thousand forgotten mistakes building strength for independence they now claim and for the unvisited years to come, an earthed companionship, connecting in a web. The invisible depth and breadth of family reunion is fuelled by eyes that sparkle in bottle light. The unspoken. The gratitude. It’s all in the catch up, no matter how brief. Parent love of two decades with its inextinguishable flame. 

Lots of love to you all too and it’s Friday! Let’s enjoy it, it’s the only Friday of the week after all😁

parting by footsteps