Yesterday we spent some time in the garden with Granddaughter. Kicking a ball around on the lawn, tipping and pouring water, making wet hand prints on the wall and generally enjoying the sunshine.
The garden was quiet as it usually is during the week. A few birds in the trees, brilliant sunshine, the dappled shade of the magnolia under a clear blue sky and that sense of timeless peace such days often bring.
Reminded of summer days long ago I was also struck with the notion that this day too would one day be long ago in Granddaughter’s memory. If indeed she ever recalls anything more than a hazy sensation of green grass, blue sky and those old people she once knew so well.
These are the moments when time seems to go off the boil, when it ceases to be that remorseless road into the unknown. When past, present and future are much the same, or could be if we only knew how.