In the cool, cool, cool of the evening

We sat having a drink & a chunter after dinner. As we drank we listened to a CD of ‘50s music. As Bing sang with Jane Wyman “In the cool, cool, cool of the evening” the blackbird outside decided to join in. Beautiful. Reminiscent of that lady playing her cello in the garden accompanied by a nightingale.

I suspect this evening we will not need to be accompanied by “In the cool, cool, cool of the evening” to realise it’s a cool evening. It already feels a much cooler day. My jumper is once more on. The sky is overcast so I wouldn’t be surprised if the predicted rain arrives before long.

Mind you, we could do with some rain. Yesterday our gardener came round to finally scatter the meadow grass & wild flower seeds in the circle below the silver birches. She looked at the ground she’d prepared the previous week. She instantly decided the first thing to do was to wet the ground. The clay soil had dried out so much, great cracks had appeared. The fine seeds would instantly have fallen down the chasms. We’re under strict instructions to water the circle this evening if there’s no sign of rain by then.