Summer

No rain today, the sky is blue, grass is green and all is right with the world.
Childish thought, I know, and it just seems that way with me at the present moment. Weeds are green too and I have plenty of those, possibly I should be out there right now, pulling up the weeds, or perhaps giving doors, fence posts and walls a sparkling new coat of paint. Summer is the time to get all these things done; at least that was mentioned in Church this morning (not my own church-when there are five Sundays in a month, we go visiting a neighbouring church or they come to us). This morning we were at St Pauls’- the lady who led the prayers – prayed for all the missing ones, assuming that was where people were,
When I was younger, oh so much younger than today, weeding, decorating, housework and cooking, were not on my agenda, instead I was able, courtesy of my parents who attended to all these to enjoy the sunshine, warmth and the odd shower was easily coped with. A child’s perspective is so very much simpler. When she was in her eighties, troubled with arthritis, and this and that, my mum used to say, ‘I know I’m old. My body tells me so but inside I’m still a little girl.’

Lovely thought, so let me share with you some words remembered from School Assemblies,
Glad that I live am I;
That the sky is blue;
Glad for the country lanes,
And the fall of dew.

After the sun, the rain,
After the rain the sun;
This is the way of life,
Till the work be done.

All that we need to do,
Be we low or high,
Is to see that we grow,
Nearer to God on high

The words are by Li­zette W. Reese and come from The Way­side Lute (1909 alt)- so they were written just a little while before the great fire of 1913, and before the country lanes in our small corner of the world began to be swallowed up by urban sprawl, or disappear as the size of the quarries grew. Now let me hasten to add, that I wasn’t born until well after the WW2, still a little girl really, (5ft isn’t tall)- but I was still fortunate to have been born in a country lane and regret that I no longer have to keep an eye on horses and cows in the fields we used as short cuts. That is life, all things change, and change often changes back again. The big quarry we are told is now going to be filled and converted back to green fields, although that will take 2 or 3 decades to achieve.

In the meantime we shall have sunshine and rain, rain and sunshine, and I shall still be looking out for daisies in the green grass and hopefully taking care that I grow ‘nearer to God on high.’

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