Lilac wine 🦋


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hypnotised by a strange delight, under a lilac tree

There’s always a moment in summer here in Lakeland when the white lilac is so completely ‘sweet and heady’ I can ‘hear’ Elkie Brooks, singing in the garden.

Unforgettable scent, and singer. I saw Elkie live, on the eve of her 72nd birthday; she raised the roof – and at times there was not a dry eye in the house!

Summer days! Ah, summer days …


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Interlude | just for the joy …

remembering summer days

‘Do you ever just close your eyes on winter evenings to remember summer?’ my friend asked me, earlier today, with a wistful look in her eyes. ‘On winter evenings, certainly,’ I replied, ‘and pretty much most mornings, too.’

Sure enough, I’m an advocate of living in the present, but part of the joy of living now is time found here to re-member the past, thereby inspired to breathe deep today, and begin to imagine and to shape the next second or two, as we do.

So here’s a little revisiting Summer ’16. You’re invited to stay here, now, for a little space, and – hopefully – some present grace …


I’ve tried to count
your petals but lose
track each time
around and recall
that numbers never
touched my senses
with clarity of cold
or warmth or taste or
touch or sight or
scent or sound and
after rain this late
summer morning

I note that tall
and elegant you’re
not much of an
accountant either
and for you too
life is celebrated
sometimes by each of
these but in the main
by radically returning
your searching face to
life-raising energy
in sunlight