In a Summer haze

I think most of us have a tendency to look back and romanticise yesteryear.

When I recall the summers when I was first married I remember walking the dogs thought the shorn fields into the woods and the evenings were hot and long. The ground was dusty and the shadows long. We were grateful for even the hint of a breeze.
It was too hot to walk them in the day.

The past few years have been so wet and grey and dull I sometimes wondered if I had imagined those summer walks.
In fact, since we moved here nearly seven years ago I don’t think there has been a long, hot sustained summer.

But here we are again.

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