Shade of a Woodland, Reaching Over Decades

2:30 in the afternoon. Jess leaves the office weighed down with paperwork, Andy comments 'not a green campaign then'. Both leave the office, and now I'm on my own. Jess returns.
Keep smelling bits of my childhood today, summer holidays at Nanny Mole's house in particular. Can almost smell the sun, and the sun on so many things I would have had then; star wars figures, comic book paper, grass, paving stone, water pistols, bouncy balls... More than anything that hot, almost metallic taste of deep, deep summer, feverish and exhausted, but always shot through with that sense of illimitable euphoria.
Lying in the sun on too-hot midday hours, suddenly longing for the shade of a woodland, and the thought of that wood suddenly swamped in mystery and cool uncertainty.
Nan's house was always full of things from childhoods that preceded mine; old toys, old annuals, boardgames with bits missing, photographs of (to me) strangers, the latter both fascinating and disquieting.
Summery out there again today. Why do the weekends go by so quick? Not that I mind so much being at work really.
Ah well.
'Feels really quiet today' Jess has just said 'Like no-one's here'.
Think everyone's lost dreaming of summer holiday woods.
Or maybe just me.