Solstice and a Grey Misty Day

mock orange


There is something totally enchanting about the soft rain that falls so gently at this time of year. Today of course it should be sunny for Solstice day but unpredictable nature says sod the humans today I will cover this particular patch of England with a grey mist, enhancing the purple seed heads of the grasses, hanging the creamy elderflower heavy with saturated rain, turning the whole world a lustrous green. The dog and I stride through the long grass soaked to the skin and I meet another walker with his dog and we laugh at our soaked appearance.
Coming back I walk beside the old stone wall, there is a tableau of mosses on one stone, little miniature islands in a sea of gray. Tiny brown flower stalks, even tinier seeds perfect in their formation, and I'm reminded of last night radio and Heather Cooper explaining the galaxies and stars and the fact that there was literally nothing before the big bang. Sometimes it is impossible to believe that nature can craft such beauty as these soft mounded plants, little worlds safe in their environment for a time, before time itself comes and sweeps them away.