Summer is . . . .

a dragonfly hovering above the calm surface of the lake
workers in overalls and no shirts
sparrows flying fleetingly from foliage to foliage
a sweet warm drizzle only slightly spitting on the footpath
in the shade of the beech we sit with our cool wine
the castle gardens so primly cared for
rosehips blooming along the perimetre of the field
the murmuring brook running over the stones
the hot sun pinching our winter skin
a quiet white cloud floating by
children laughing, babies crying
a moped slowly sliding by on the tar road
the bus dragging to a halt at the bus shed
1000 smells wafting past our keen noses
biting a rosey red cherry
for me this is the smell,taste and sight of summer.