Late Summer
Late Summer

Late Summer


The edges of leaves dried out and curled; rivers ran thinly over grey stones; brooks dried to damp patches in the fields. Flower petals shook and dried and fell like coloured rain onto the cracking earth. Cow vetch clamoured in the hay fields. Earwigs chewed in the corn.

It was the day in late summer when the weather turns and suddenly there are endings everywhere, despite the bright sunlight. There was a fierce wind that blew all day, dragging the snapping sheets from the laundry lines all the way up and down the Shore Road. The rusty-hinged cries of swinging gates rose on the swirling wind like departing birds.

~from The Clock of Heaven

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.