Yesterday Carina, Capucine and I were in the wood pulling rhododendron seedlings.
It was barely 4pm and the sun was down, but we could still see. Nearly all the oak leaves are now lying on the woodland floor, making an amazing 3D mosaic, each pale brown leaf with its distinct lobes, overlapping with the ones beside and beneath.
We walked back along the shore track and there was an amazing orangey-pink glow, not on the sea horizon (the glow there had gone, for the sun was well set by now). There were soft clouds all around.
It was the afterglow. The air itself – all around – was alight, but in a soft suffusing way. It must have been a matter of a few minutes, though time seemed to stand still.
We walked in the glow. A beautiful soft light enfolded us. The gorse bushes were dark apart from pale flower-stars.
It was a magical experience, epitomising the amazing weather we have been having through September, October and, now, December, generally mild (though one spectacular cold snap) and calm. The Atlantic weather fronts have been piling in, but either north or south of us.
Our turn will surely come, but in the interregnum we can enjoy these days to the full.
