The wind carried sounds of a silver band: from half a mile away. I had been busy and wandered into the garden for some fresh air. Then I realised I should probably have been there, where the band was playing, for the music came from the summer garden party of our Day Centre, which I have long supported.
Readers will recall it was threatened with closure – and reprieved by a last minute hope of funding, just as the bad news was to be given to members. Actually I had been involved today with some work at home for the Centre, so my conscience is partly clear.
The weather was good and I could picture the scene: the uniformed band under its marquee playing catchy songs from the shows, the tables dotted about on the lawn, the members, their relatives and friends enjoying home made cakes and savouries and endless cups of tea carried to them by hurrying volunteers. Quite often the mayor comes, in smart suit and wearing his chain of office.
In the day room there will have been more tables, more cakes and tea, and stalls selling Christmas cards and raffle tickets and all kinds of home-made gifts to raise funds. Dignitaries, chatter, contacts made, a sense of belonging.
Christmas cards…. Yes, the year is moving on. The ancient hedgerows on the road to the Day Centre have shed their elder blossom, and clusters of small green berries are developing. The hawthorn fruits are beginning to form and the crab apples are well advanced. The buddleia is in bloom, and this week’s warm south west winds brings memories of long past summers – and August holidays.
And so the year turns beyond midsummer, imperceptibly as yet, towards the shorter days of autumn.
And the Day Centre is already well-advanced in its plans for the Christmas lunch.
May we yet enjoy many more midsummers.