Thursday, August 31, 2006

The Sleepy End of a Hot Afternoon

"It was the sleepy end of a hot afternoon. The foliage of the trees seemed to shimmer in the heat; the flowers - wild flowers and cultivated tangling together in the neglected borders - breathed their scents heavily. There was something dream-like about the garden that, with the house, was so soon to disappear at Mr Smith's command ... All the sweet summers that David had ever known came drifting into his mind, and last came this one - the best of them all, that he had shared with Adam. He heard the swish of the Minnow as they paddled her along the Say; he saw again the moonlight silvering the water meadows by Jonathan Codling's bridge; he smelt - yes, he really smelt - the delicious scents that follow in their order the summer through - only these were mixed together all at once - hawthorn and cowslips in the meadows; in the garden, apple-mint and clary, honeysuckle and roses. A wave of summer sweetness moved over David as Squeak Wilson passed, singing."

Philippa Pearce, Minnow on the Say