For many many reasons, I haven’t done one of these posts in a while but nevertheless, these moments of joy do still exist. Sometimes they are not joyful, so to speak, but things that are making me think or widening my eyes. This has been particularly true of my reading and listening material of late.
The light. It becomes dusk-like around 10pm now. Today is the solstice. We have been lucky with the weather (however concerning the lack of rain is) and the evenings are long and cooling, which is pleasant after the heat. I have gone for swims. On Friday we shared a picnic with friends and lit a fire. Marking these days has become more important to me over the years. This day is one of my favourites.
Poppies are everywhere. In the churchyard we go through almost daily. In other people’s gardens. On the verges and the central divisions of the ring road. In the wildflower meadows. Pops of red but also dark pinks and whites.




Careless People by Sarah Wynn-Williams - I listened to this in about four days. I just could not stop. Compelling and eye-opening.
Missing in the Amazon from The Guardian - this is terrible but should be told and heard. I am also reading Dom Philips’ book on the Amazon.
Ridiculous pastries eaten with coffee and green juice in the sunshine - from Proof Social and Hamblin generally.
Drying clothes in the sunshine. This makes me disproportionately happy and has something to do with growing up in a place where clothes dry quickly outside, no matter the season.
The clematis we inherited with the house which has bloomed this deep purple and covered a section of fence. It is glorious.
Cucumbers from the greenhouse, eaten while still slightly warm.
Tips for becoming a writer (via The Hyphen)
William Kentridge in the NYT (gift link)
A few weeks ago we went to the botanic garden to a workshop run by The Museum of Climate Hope. This isn’t a physical museum but rather a series of places around the city that help us think about the climate in some way. We saw the ‘objects’ included in the museum that are within the garden, and then got to make some art. The yew tree was planted in 1645 and has stood in the same spot ever since.
Have an excellent weekend.
Thanks for reading. I have decided to make all my Substack posts free from now on. Books are linked to the Bookshop affiliate programme.