Gather Ye Rosebuds
It’s absolutely gorgeous again today and the thought of sitting indoors trawling the waters of the blogosphere for the occasional pearl does not appeal. The world is falling apart, just as it was yesterday and the day before that. The continued contemplation of it does not at all entice, and is losing out to the siren song of the sun.
A thunderstorm has cleared the air, everything sparkles, the sky’s a uniform blue and the garden is lush and blooming. The magpies seem rejuvenated in their squabbling. Even the two clematis that I’ve been nursing ( since they’re on not only a NE-facing but exposed and windy trellis) have burst forth in a profusion of white and mauve saucer-shaped flowers. The garden doesn’t care about death, destruction and stupidity, all it knows is that it’s summer.
Just lately its been childhood summer weather, when the days seemed uniformly glorious, hot and sunny, just like this. It makes me want to do today what we did then, spend the day at Trebarwith Strand alternately surfing (fueled by tea, pasties and Cornish ice-cream) and basking on hot rocks, waiting for the green flash as the sun goes down over the sea. Then a fragrant walk back through the lanes in the honeysuckle-scented twilight, looking at the stars.
These days it’s hard to take such innocent physical enjoyment in the climate and environment when each hot and sunny day is another precursor to global warming. It kind of takes the edge off things, if you see what I mean.
Maybe I’m just getting old and hard-bitten by seeing too much of how the world works. To think we can pull back from the edge of ecological, political and sociological catastrophe now is a fallacy. The evidence is there online every day for anyone who wants to see. The worm is indeed in the bud .
But an awareness of decay makes the appreciation of beauty that much sharper. The evanescence of things is part of their beauty and humanity is as temporary as ny other living creature.
We must get our pleasure where we can in this endangered world, so I’m going to make the most of the weather insofar as I’m currently able. I’ll just have to pop out for a prescription and come back via the park (though much of it’s being dug up for a tunnel project) then have a nice sit down in in our very own pocket woodland glade out back. It’s not the beach, but it’s lovely.
But I’ll enjoy it that much more knowing that it could all be taken away in an instant. I guess that’s the difference between childhood and adult summers.
Gather ye rosebuds while ye may,
Old Time is still a-flying:
And this same flower that smiles to-day
To-morrow will be dying.
