A Strangely Welcome Summer

After dull, grey yesterday and last night's dream about a dark attic hiding a secret stairway, I woke this morning to hazy sun and a heavy langorous heat. Wondered into town early afternoon to meet Sarah for a coffee in the Pavilion Gardens. Saw her new painting in the studio which I absolutely love; a grey and red piece that felt like a winters afternoon fading towards twilight. can't wait to see it finished.
Sarah left for the studio while I stayed in the park, and finally got around to starting a drawing, the first time I've picked up a pen since losing my job nearly three weeks ago.
One of the great pleasures in life is drawing outside. I was quite content, listening to the unseen sitar playing, watching the jugglers and the pigeons, pretending not to be disturbed by laughing children chasing the aforementioned pigeons.
The shadows crept over the grass though, and the chill drove me to the beach where the evening sun was still evident. Another coffee followed at the Meeting Place cafe. I sat on one of the green tables and watched the sea. A serene sea today, almost completely still, just a few vague ripples, undulating undercurrents, some vast serpent beneath the grey green waters.
Out on the horizon there was a fishing boat. I watched it for a while, and the scattering of seagulls following its lazy path.
I love the sea. It is so certain of itself. Moon mirrors. Timeless rhythm. A back-and-forth that promises forever.
The sea has always been here, and long after I'm gone, it will still be.
There was a kind of peace in that thought, and I walked home.
This is a strange, and perhaps, welcome summer.