There have been fabulous sightings of natural phenomena this month – the aurora borealis, the Perseid meteor showers, and the super moon- but we missed the lot because of fog. Yes, days on end of it, rolling in from the sea and up over the cliffs shrouding everything in damp candy floss for days.
And then the sun came back, burned off the peasouper so we could feel its warmth and see the chapel on the peninsular once again.
And the veggies have gone crackers in these warm humid days, broken by intense rain and then burning sunshine. Harvesting chard, courgettes, beetroot, spinach, cucumbers and beans has been fun but I have learnt that it is followed by much hard work preparing the soups, ratatouille and casseroles for the freezer, and the pickles for the store cupboard. The comforting thought is all that goodness will make for healthy bones, guts and teeth.
Sadly, the summer garden is coming to its end as the season turns back to shorter days and chillier evenings. So, it’s one more time to enjoy the rosa ragusa’s dense musky perfume and its glorious ruby red hips; walking the beach and the cliff tops in the early evening while looking out for dolphins and seals that have been sighted further down the coast; and appreciating nature’s muted pink palette and the magnificent white and blue agapanthuses that grow wild in these parts.
With all the closed-in weather, I have been working on the characters for my new book. As I recall the gangs of medics at war, I find myself back in those wild west days dominated by individuals with the ‘God complex’ as they fought for their turf. The memories are still vivid so when it is all too much, a stroll in the garden fixes things.
And of Louisa’s Lament? I have been working on a screenplay, ever hopeful of the book becoming a movie in the style of the recently launched Veuve Clicquot. Check it out.
Old Lady by the Sea 