Shedding in the setting sun

The thistle down that was so ethereal became a dank, manky mess by the next run.

I rarely run in the evening. It energises me too much that I know that sleep will elude me.

But today I made an exception. Enjoying the late evening sun a pleasure rarely enjoyed as a mother tied to a child’s bedtime ritual. A house empty from responsibilities as my daughter was away with her father.

So I ran a new route. Contouring the hill not conquering it. Giving the mother buzzard that wants my eyes a wide berth until September comes.

Everything around me was silent and golden. The still point of August. Glorious. Cinematic…

…And then surreal.

As I got to the top of Banner Hill I was joined by Shania Twain. A wedding at the Hall of course. Broken out of my reverie and returned to the actual moment. “Fuck it” I thought. And I danced like no one but the buzzard was watching me.

Little did I know this would be the last day of summer. The landcape and I were getting ready to shed.

Two days later the land gave up and decided it was time to rest after the relentless heat: Autumn came early.

And all that was golden was decimated.

(And yes I was truly buzzing by the time I got home and spent the early hours watching Mick Jagger and James Fox swagger in Performance)