As a kid, the summer started when school ended. That final bell was, and still is, a joy to the ears of every child. As an adult, you realise summer has usurped spring well before the final weeks of July. This year, summer is having something of a renaissance as the sunshine has been not a fleeting friend but a faithful companion, who, if forecasters are to be believed, is willing to see out our calendar expectations of her (I always see the sun as feminine for some reason.)
A hot summer is always craved after but perhaps more so this year after a seemingly endless winter and the dispiriting snow falls which curtailed the spring a few weeks. But from May onwards, we’ve had a summer, week upon week of warm weather. With it, brings a renewed sense of optimism, motivation to get out of the house and a pull to the seductive greenery of the countryside or cool blues of the sea. The summer is a time for fun and relaxation as the temperatures allow us to eat outdoors, wear fewer clothes and simply slow down.
When writing this blog the word that’s floating around in my head is appreciation. The summer offers us so much and I’ve tried to do as much as I can to enjoy it, to feel it and live it. As I sat in a boat watching the sun setting over Bamburgh castle and the Cheviots, indigo silhouettes in the distance, I could not help but feel appreciative. Appreciative in that I was there, absorbing the calmness, the colours and the smells of the sea. The other people on the boat barely spoke, engrossed, as I was, in the fading light, the puffins returning to their nests with mouthfuls of sand eels and grey seals hauling out after a day at sea.
During the day, the North sea, which is usually so cold as to stop your circulation, felt better than tolerable. After seconds, I realised I could swim here without turning blue and without a three inch layer of vaseline.
In the harbour at Seahouses a man and his two kids were catching crabs using salami in little pots as bait. Once caught, they were thrown back in, no harm done. Up against the harbour wall people some simply stared out to sea eating ice cream whilst in the rock pools below kids were discovering the sea’s bounty, trapped temporarily by the tide.
The sea air, the fish n chips and the sunshine combined are a powerful sedative. But my mind was relaxed and somehow those daily niggling stresses aren’t as niggling or stressing and I read my book with a clear head. That night I slept like a log.
Another day and I’m walking across the moors, before the grouse shooting begins. It is a windless day and very hot. All around me there are grouse, perfectly hidden in the heather. I come to a gully where a female Merlin is teaching her fledglings how to hunt, she passes a young grouse chick to one of them in mid air. It is a spectacular sight worthy of the Springwatch. I wind my way through the purple flowering heather down to a riverside track and follow it into the village of Edmondbyers. I sit in the beer garden of the Punchbowl with a bowl of thick cut chips and an ice cold coke. I am a happy man.
I see a family arrive on bikes, they too go for the chips, dad has a half of lager whilst mam and the kids replicate my choice. Opposite them sit an older couple with a Springer Spaniel. It has sought out the shade but inquisitively checks out the family of cyclists and then me before returning to its spot in the shade. It all feels right to me, we’re all happy in one another’s presence.
The next weekend finds me in the lakes, this time sharing a summer adventure with others. The mountains are at their most alluring in summer time. Cloud free summits are on offer, their panoramic views a reward for a sweaty toil uphill. We trundle up the slope of Blencathra until we reach Hall’s fell ridge. Here, we scramble like we did as kids, over rocks, finding footholds and pulling our weight upwards. We find it is fun after the labours of steep hill walking. The view ahead is breathtaking, we feel a sense of togetherness yet lose none of the individual thrill one gets from climbing a mountain. We reach the top without needing to put on extra layers. We eat our packed lunch and we witness a successful marriage proposal. We get down to watch England win their world cup quarter final. It’s a great day.
As the school holidays approach I keep my fingers crossed the weather holds for the kids. I hope they don’t feel summer is just to be had in other countries, on holidays abroad. The light nights, give you more play time, you go to bed that bit later. But it lifts everything you do and see. The sea is that bit bluer, the trees that bit greener and people that bit cheerier. It’s a time of plenty, a time of picnics, festivals and frolics.
The sun has been worshiped by men for thousands of years and summer is the star of the seasons. We don’t need to worship it anymore but let’s show it our appreciation by loving our summer. After all there’s plenty to love.