Why are summers so short these days? When I was a boy summer began at Easter which was always (if my memory serves me right, and I don’t suppose it does) warm, calm, sunny and pregnant with optimism. And it went on until the mists and crumbling leaves of autumn told me it was over and Christmas was approaching.
Summer seemed like a six month business back then, and six months seemed like half a lifetime to a young child. And now summer comes and goes in the time it takes a wind-blown apple to fall back to the very earth which gave it genesis. Or so it seems, and as I keep on saying: ‘perception is the whole of the life experience.’