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.’
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