Summer afternoon

A few nights ago, I woke up at 1 am, padded across to the other bedroom, dragged a quilt across and snuggled back to sleep in that soft and cosy combination of quilt and coverlet. The dogs heaved a sigh of relief too…the room had become too cold for comfort.

And now, today— I wake up and wear sandals for the morning walk. No socks, no jacket, no cap. The sun waited behind the pine trees, pounced on us to make us turn back, and then glared us back indoors.

Birds of summer have arrived and so have the flowers—lilies of all hues, fat roses, honeysuckle blossoms and their sweet, cloying fragrance, geraniums and calendulas and asters and so many more. The last of the poppies and dahlias are fading away and no one seems to be missing them in this summer riot of colors and scents. Butterflies flit, bumble-bees buzz busily and tiny birds dip into lilies and roses.

Our sentinel horse-chestnut tree has sprouted pink blossoms at the end of every leafy twig. They look like upturned chandeliers and candelabras which, instead of shedding light, shed pink petals to carpet the ground and cover parked cars.

Morning activity ceases by lunch. The dogs get their food and I get mine. The kitchen is cleared and cleaned and Hema takes the dogs and her knitting to chat with the rest of the staff and catch up on local news and scandals. There is a fresh tid-bit every day—eloping girls, sudden pregnancies, unnatural and natural deaths, vendettas, violent fights and/or good times for some blessed family. As she shuts the door, the sun tip toes in  and floods the rooms with this diffuse, glowing warmth…perfect for indulging  in some reading and knitting and lolling on the cushions.

Outside, the pine trees and their little cones sway in the afternoon breeze…little birds flit around in the mellow sunlight and the honeysuckle creeper sends its fragrance out in all directions. At the neighbors’, the buffalo calves and the frisky goat kids wait for their mothers to return from grazing. The little boy and girl return home from school and spill out every word spoken by teachers and friends. They have started school this term and the charm of doing home-work is strong. I love their babble of eager excitement and chirpy chatter.  In this world of fast paced progress, its good to hear some sounds of my childhood.

Hema leaves for home and we have the house to ourselves. Biskit finds a cool spot under the bathroom tap, digs an imaginary hole and sinks into sweet slumber. Pepper plods behind me, waiting for me to settle down so that she can curl up with just a smidgen of body touch. I settle down on the cool, marble-tiled floor and enjoy the cool breeze flowing in from the forest, meandering through the rooms and leaving me with a smile in my soul and contentment in every cell.