Dreaming of midsummer
May. 20th, 2020 11:51 am![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
shewhomustClosing the bedroom curtains last night at bedtime (a little after ten) I noticed that there was still light in the sky uphill - and yes, now that I looked, a streak of pink over the viaduct.
At first I was surprised that the evenings have lengthened so far already, but then I realised: it's barely a month until midsummer. D. has already received notice that his booking for a cottage on Lindisfarne has been cancelled: we will not be observing the solstice there this year. Nor will we be observing it together. I feel a little as if Christmas has been cancelled. On the scale of a pandemic, it's not that terrible a blow, but a marker of some kind, nonetheless.
The beautiful weather adds insult to injury: when I think of the grey and rainy midsummer we spent in Shetland last year (oh, we had a good time, but if we'd had weather like this ...)
At first I was surprised that the evenings have lengthened so far already, but then I realised: it's barely a month until midsummer. D. has already received notice that his booking for a cottage on Lindisfarne has been cancelled: we will not be observing the solstice there this year. Nor will we be observing it together. I feel a little as if Christmas has been cancelled. On the scale of a pandemic, it's not that terrible a blow, but a marker of some kind, nonetheless.
The beautiful weather adds insult to injury: when I think of the grey and rainy midsummer we spent in Shetland last year (oh, we had a good time, but if we'd had weather like this ...)
no subject
Date: 2020-05-20 03:25 pm (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-05-21 01:40 pm (UTC)And I do realise that I'm not the only one whose plans havebeen cancelled - shouldn't you be in Orkney right now?