This time of year, every time there is a day like today, we ask ourselves 'will this be the last day of Summer?', for it is still, warm and very sunny. The horse-chestnut trees in particular are a deep orange colour, the ground is littered with ash leaves and time seems to be standing still. Tomorrow is forecast to be wet.
The farmer and I together with friend W. have been out to lunch - proper Sunday lunch - roast beef, roast pork and roast lamb between us - and delicious it was too. Then we sat for a long time over a cup of coffee before beginning the short journey back home.
Taking Tess for a walk then I passed the meadow where the ten heifers are. They were all lying full length in the sun - I couldn't help wondering whether they were asking themselves the same question I asked earlier - 'will this be the last day of Summer, moo?'
Driving through the village it was good to see various folk around doing jobs - friend C was cleaning 'his' section of the village beck out (the section which runs across the front of his garden.) I was pleased to see that he was leaving the glorious golden mimulus and just clearing out the weed and digging a layer of mud and pebbles from the bottom. At the village pub garden the bonfire for November 5th (Bonfire Night) was already under construction - old doors, palettes, window frames - all piled high. What a blaze that will be. Friend T was out tending his begonias, which cover the front of his house and make such a splendid show every year. It is as though everyone is thinking the same as me - will we get any more days like this when doing chores is pleasant work?
Looking at Cro's blog today (Magnon's Meandering on my side bar) it was really interesting to compare the French village photographs with our village. There is really no comparison at all. All the houses in the French village look so ancient, as does the church. I suppose the only similarity is that as in our village, these houses and cottages were built long before cars were invented, which means they were built too close together for space for modern vehicles, so they are left on the road.
Another feature today is the quantity of spiders' webs everywhere. I suspect they are always there but because the sun is getting low we can now see them more easily. As I sit here typing I look through the hall window and the gap between the Scots pines is festooned with shimmering lines of gossamer. They are so beautiful, unlike the huge spider which friend W had to capture last night by the glass and card method and eject from the house. Of course it will be back, but she didn't care to sit watching it perfect its dance steps across the carpet all evening.