Sunday 1 September 2013


September already. Summer - the season - is nearing an end, while for Summer - the small person - life is just beginning. Yes, the granddaughter - a creature of quite breathtaking loveliness - has a name. Summer. It is perfect for her.
Unlike Frankly Adorable Sam, Summer has no namesakes I can think of in literature. However, Summer is one of the great themes of poetry - indeed it would be possible to make a good historical anthology of English verse by following the theme, all the way from
'Sumer is icumen in'...
Meanwhile, this wondrous butterfly summer continues to yield its bounty. Today, in the course of a short walk on Ashtead common,  amid dozens and dozens of merry Speckled Woods, I spotted two Small Coppers quietly nectaring - my first of the year.

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