The Hampton Court Garden Show is the epitomy of an English summer, a basket of simple ingredients, intoxicating when combined.
Here is our summer’s day:
- People thronging in their sensible shoes and flowery shirts, the wise pulling a plastic cart to hold their purchases,
- The air filled with music and chatter, scented with coffee and picnics, a sensory treat,
- Wandering through show gardens, mini allotments, and pop-up shops selling everything from hats, wellies, and gloves to garden offices.
- A light mist from a fountain refreshing our limbs as we sit by the Long Water to eat fish and chips.
- A glass of prosecco near the Rose Garden; the extravagant scent and colour of the blooms effervescing with the tingle of the bubbles and the heat of the sun.
- Slightly tipsy, wandering back to the car, buying plants as we go.
Back home, I stretch out on a sun lounger, a tray of Earl Grey on the low wall beside me. The Wimbledon Men’s Semi-finals is playing on the tablet I am writing to and a favourite poem wafts across my sleepy brain, John Betjeman’s A Subaltern’s Love-song.
It has been a tough few weeks in the UK, delay to the end of lock down, heavy rainfall. Finding time to write has been a struggle, but summer is here at last!
As long as the earth endures,
seedtime and harvest,
cold and heat,
summer and winter,
day and night
will never cease
Written in response to the fivemintefriday prompt SUMMER. You can click here to join in.