Thank you Susie, for capturing so well our scorching summer. And its drying and burning effect on all the living creatures. Your words are so full of life in spite of the drought, that the reader feels seen, less panting, less alone. That's the power of words. That's the power of poetry.
Thank you so much for your kind comment Félicia, It has been a tough summer indeed. I have spent many hours carrying water to strategic points to ensure wild animals do not die of thirst. All the rivers are dry, the lakes and ponds too but rain has arrived, at last and with it fresher temperatures. I am quite certain I heard a collective sigh of relief from all that lives and breathes.I hope where you are you can hear the same joyful sound! x
Dear Susie, I have thought of you and hoped that your hill is free from fires. Yet your experience too feels like a slow Dante-esque descent, a series of torments. Thank you for voicing beautifully the poor souls that also suffer the heat and drought. Even here in the north of Scotland the leaves have been falling, and the trees look tired of this dry and drying summer. We have saucers of water out that bring a succession of feathered visitors by day, and who knows what else by night. I wish you cooler temperatures and steady sustained rain.
Apologies for such a long delay in replying Michela, the last week of my holiday was spent buried in papers and meetings and schedules for the new school year ahead, a week I always dread for many reasons, not least that it means an end to the peace and quiet of free days. Though with the heat and fires and poor little creatures suffering so, this summer has been less of a quiet time than usual, my time has been filled with trying to ensure water is available to all despite empty rivers dry land and zero dew.
Rain has a arrived though, and with it cooler temperatures. A sigh of relief too, from all that is living.
I have read of the dry lands in Scotland, a fire (surely almost unheard of) too, I hope you also have had revitalising rains by now? I am constantly amazed at the miracles nature holds within her powers, here, already, there are flushes of fresh green across the hills and hope is reinstalled! xx
Thank you Susie, no apology needed. As I read your poetic words today I knew your precious peace will soon become busyness. I hope you gain good new neighbours (I shall look, curious),
I hope we gain good neighbours too Michela, sadly a property such as an untouched almost completely original château in sprawling land invites the eyes of investors, it scares me half to death! I pray the fact the farm buildings are so close and an eyesore - maybe you noticed? - and the fact that there is tenant farmer who works the land with a huge heard of noisy cattle will put off all bar those people who have a love of nature and its surroundings. Time will tell… 🙏🏼
Even in lush and leafy Somerset everything is crispy and wilted, the forecasters told us we have rain last night and while they weren’t completely wrong it amounted to nothing more than a few drops - not even enough to see in the bird bath which I filled once again this morning (to the sparrows great delight). Seems an odd wish to bestow - but may the rain find you soon! Xx
Apologies for the delay in replying Vanessa, all of a sudden summer break is over and my week has been filled with meetings and paperwork and schedules!
Rain found us, and even after just a few days colour is returning, nature is miraculous isn't it! The dust bowl that was my garden last week now has a light sprinkling of lush green again, what's left (which is admittedly little) of my veggie patch has sprung to life and I do believe I will have the joy of fresh tomatoes after all and the birds have returned, wherever it is they went for this stifling month of August I don't know but slowly birdsong can be heard in the trees again - at least I can return to classes with birdsong! I hope you too have had a little rain now too? xx
Never any need to apologise Susie, it’s lovely to catch up as and when we do. I’m so glad you’ve had rain and things are resuming their usual habits, we too had rain which though welcomed was ill timed at a bbq last night 😂 - we’re never happy are we! Xx
Wow, your description makes me parched even though I'm sitting here on the other side of the world where we've had rain nearly every single day this summer. I absolutely love this image: "All the singing birds—except the jays and magpies and buzzards who surely must be made from wind and iron—have lost their singing voices."
Ben! How very lovely to see a comment from you, I hope this means perhaps a return to writing here?
I have forgotten the feeling of rain, of that cool fresh dampness of the aftermath such weather brings... I'd say with a wry smile 'you are lucky', but I doubt it would be appreciated after such a wet summer! It seems we have no choice to make do with a feast or famine scenario wherever we are in the world!
Thank you for your generous reading, it's great to hear from you again.
What a horrible mess we’ve put ourselves in here on earth! Mother Nature is angry with us humans and she has every reason. Let’s hope for change, and rain! and be happy about the signs of hope like the little hares!
Thank you lovely, dear MN sure is angry, all the weather gods too! And there is no point complaining because I fear their despair is as great as ours, those of us that care anyway!
I am hoping and praying for rain every day, if it doesn't come soon much of the damage will be irreparable, so many trees have already lost the fight... it looks like autumn came in august on south facing slopes - a heartbreaking sight when you know those trees are dead not just in cycle.
Thankfully the temperatures are cooler now, I can breathe again but the dust remains... and the rain stays stubbornly up!
much love to you too - I hope your summer has been kinder xxx
Oh, dear Susie, this hurts my heart to read. To bear witness, to walk among your dear, suffering neighbors, to attend to their suffering, and to share your words with us -- I'm in awe of your spirit and generosity. This morning, watching the young osprey learn how to catch fish, I join you and them in praying for rain.
Thank you, for reading and prayers for rain. You would have equally concerned and equally generous Julie, it has been impossible to do nothing and would have been for everyone and anyone paying attention. I have just spoken to my daughter in Toulouse, just two hours away by car, they have had floods overnight and yet here, not a single drop has fallen! It will come, for sure, but damn I pray hard it comes soon.
I am envious of your osprey, such incredibly beautiful birds they are, found only in one single location here in France which is far.
So beautifully described, such are the ailments in the world, now perhaps of the world.
I heard a line earlier (Brené Brown, the Gifts of Imperfection) 'The dark does not destroy the light, it defines it. It is the fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows'.
These are uncertain, anxious times. Perhaps, not unlike the pandemic, we're been asked to tackle things personally and collectively. Perhaps like the pandemic the myriad of triggers, their many guises, have one universal lesson and truth at the core that needs attention. Urgent now.
I have a great fear 'of the world' is a more correct assumption Síodhna - I wish it weren't. I feel anxious almost permanently, and it is not an anxiety limited only to my hill and the devastation caused by one summer of above normal high temperatures but for everything and everyone living. There seems to be so much complacency, so much 'we can't do anything to help' and yet if each of us paid attention to all those small things we can do, and were aware of how and where to make those small gestures, slowly we just might see changes. And yes, they are now urgent!
The Brené Brown quote is beautiful and yes, how very true. Fear will halt everything unless we embrace and see beyond it.
Thank you, always, for you generous reading and sharing, I haven't heard that song in years and I loved it so when I lived Ireland, it reminds me of a quieter world in a tiny cottage in Co Westmeath. xx
Thank you so much, I have just read through and loved Elsie's introduction, had I been walking alone this afternoon, as planned, I would have listened while I walked but I have now, not only a friend but my son joining me, it will be joyful but less quiet. Saved for a walk on a different day, with love and gratitude on this beautiful Sunday dear Síodhna xx
I have been keeping an eye on your severe weather. The temp. may have dropped some, I hope, on your hill but fire risk is serious danger. I see lots of evacuations further south, old mediaeval villages threatened. It has been brutal in Portugal and I read Veronika's comments, and places I used to know in the Balkans. Our eldest daughter's project in normally wet West Wales 'temperate rainforest' came under close threat of fire in May this year after a drought. They had to move the cattle and ponies, The fire came up the hill just short of them.)
Dear Philip, it seems we are not yet out of the danger zone, the drought continues and, almost, in spite of forecasts saying otherwise, the clouds float by, contrarily and stubbornly refusing to open. At least not here and yet Toulouse is flooded in many parts (just two hours away. The temperature has fallen though, a relief, small but graciously received. Veronika and Joshua in Portugal - and others in Spain - have had a more difficult time and I read, just this morning, heroic fighters are further exacerbated by strong winds. I pray for them! Here no wind, no rain, just dust, still, and poor panting creatures.
Thank goodness your daughter and her cattle and ponies in West Wales were not touched by fire, a relief for you and her, may it remain that way. 🙏🏼
Thank you for finding the time. Fingers and toes crossed for you all! To paraphrase Thoreau, we built a civilisation as a porch at the entrance of our burrows.
Guess so... "Tis time, 'tis time!"... perhaps one driven mind at a time, and so contemplate the electrics of our spooked intellect? Or better try a different farewell... "Our revels now are ended... into air, into thin air"?
Yes, Susie, all of this, on this side of our tiny planet as well.
The extreme heat here in Japan (38-40C daily) means that the rice will use its own nutrition in order to stay alive, meaning less of it for those who harvest and consume it.
West side, inundations of rain and subsquent flooding. Where I am, the earth is so dry that weeds don’t grow. (Blessing?) It’s dry from no rain, but walk 5 minutes outside and you need a shower with all the humidity.
Hi, Sonny. Sending you a hug. And one for you, of course, Susie. x
I was speaking to a friend in Australia last week who also told me of floods and heavy rain that just doesn’t want to stop and yet in Melbourne there is still, at the end of winter, a drought. None of these weather systems are predictable any more, we check them (me on a daily basis) we suffer the consequences, there doesn’t seem to be any other way until those who can implement at least the beginnings of change, do!
Yes, no weeds here either, as you say, a small mercy for gardens but for the animals looking at bare and scorched fields, trees that have no leaves left it is a death sentence. I cannot even begin to tell you how many desiccated bodies I have found this summer, nor how many times my heart has broken.💔
Last night we were forecast rain, I could smell the change in the air even, and although this morning is noticeably cooler, there has been no rain here on the hill. As I type it is trying again… I pray hard that the odd drip from the sky turns into a downpour !
Love back to you and your loved ones from Sonny and me xx
I'm so sorry to read how much your hill is suffering Susie, your words have painted such a strong picture of the how much nature is struggling with climate change - the land and the animals together fighting to survive. Your final tale of the leverets playing lifted my thoughts out of the dark days of heat...I hope now as I write this that the weather has broken for you and rain is falling.
Dear Lin, I wanted to write something less sad, less concerning but it is a desperate story this summer, possibly the worst we've seen on the hill. Despite having had longer periods of dry weather in passed years and higher temperatures the sheer number of - ongoing - consecutive days this year has left deep wounds. Much will never recover. But there is always a little pocket of hope, a leveret playing, a few tomatoes when I thought I'd have none and enough blackberries found in a shady corner to make a little jam. I think we have to cling to small joys or lose ourselves completely in anxiety and heartbreak - I will take small joys!
Thank you so much for reading, I hope where you are you still see green leaves on healthy trees. xx
Oh Pipp, firstly, please, please, never lay down your pen!
You're glad you met me? Hell girl, it was inspiration from your beautiful essays that enticed me here in the first place! Remember? I am more glad I met you - count on it!
If you knew how I agonised over each sentence you would laugh! My passion is deep but trying to convey that feeling on paper so that it sounds even remotely like the emotion is like sitting an exam I never studied for! Enough said... pick up your pen and write, you do it so well, don't doubt it!
As for the conditions, we have been lucky with the fires, there are far worse elsewhere in the world. The heat though, has been almost as lethal, much has suffered and will not survive - I am scared to imagine even ten years ahead if we continue to have summers like these.
Maybe - I hope - next summer, me and Rosie, will come knocking on your door, Barcelona is close right? Brace yourself for coffee! xxxx
I too fear for the ecology round here in ten years time. As each day passes I thank the stars we have not gone up in smoke here too. And yes, very near Barcelona. Coffee? Lunch!!! At least!! I will pick you both up from the train station 🥰🥰🥰
What a haunting and vivid picture of this soul-draining heatwave we are finally emerging from. Our youngest and I spent several days just holed up in the house with all shutters down, which is an awful way to do summer. We had hoped to get out for a drink somewhere on Thursday evening but both agreed it was too hot to move. That said, perched up here at 625 meters, we were a few degrees below your parts. I'm not sure I could have taken any more.
Soul-draining is about the extent of it isn't it... not just for us but everywhere we look. I am haunted by thoughts of the future Betty, how much hotter can we stand, how much hotter can nature stand when all about us is already suffering?
I am not certain even at altitude the temperatures were any more bearable than here, too hot is too hot, point barre!
We haven't eaten one meal on the terrace through these holidays, not one!
My dearly beloved who I am certain was some sort of desert dog in a previous life can work through it, worse he insists on help! I think I have drunk more water through August than I have all year! I'm exhausted, with few days left for R&R before la rentrée too...
Yes, your summer holiday is flying fast, as is mine...and I imagine the heat wave represented truly lost days for you. Even now that it's cooled down, I don't feel any usual post-canicule burst of energy the way I did in June. The June one was shorter; this one was so long that I feel like it is having after-effects on my mood and motivation.
I feel too that lack of motivation, with just one week left to recuperate I have so little energy left Betty. I am dreading Sept 1.
and yes, I have indeed lost days and days trying to keep everything breathing alive; small creatures, my garden, trees everywhere... we have lost an apricot, my beloved Cyprus, planted the first year arrived and a glorious persimmon! I feel sad beyond words and its not over yet, every rain cloud passes us by!
Yes, they were predicting rain much of the week. We did have one rather heavy rainfall, perhaps Monday evening and during the night? Alas, too little overall.
Oh Susie how gorgeous this is, even in the dying panting heat of it all. I feel very far removed from all that scorching given we are in winter and I read little of the news these days to know what is happening in your part of the world.
I had to look up what a leveret was. 🥰 May that joy and energy start to spread again through your sun blasted home. "I wait prune like, to be rejuvenated. To be plum again." So evocative Susie.
Thank you and wishing you, your family, and your surrounds safe days and Life giving rain. With love. 💚🙏
Jo, it is not often I wish for the cool air of winter days, much less rain but this summer has beaten me into a shape I no longer recognise and wishes I cannot let go of.
But despite the heat and the drought and all that is turned to dust, there are leverets, and oh how the joy of seeing them play is like a one of those wishes come true!
This evening I found a fox in a part of the woodland usually inaccessible due to undergrowth, he had been dead for many days and yet though my heart broke for his lost life, the way his bones lay in the leaves was somehow still beautiful.
Which makes me believe that everything, the heat, the blanched landscape, the white-hot sky with no clouds, even the panting creatures and my prune like skin are all part of a grand scheme to make us realise that we have to grab it all and hold on to it like we would a rollercoaster ride because it really is all up and down, up and down and we never know when it will end.
I read a Hunter Thompson quote today which made me think of you...
"“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
Let's do it! Biggest love always - with thanks ♥️xxx
Yes! The quote made me smile Susie and definitely resonated! Thank you for thinking of me. I intend not to live quite as hard out and drugged out as Hunter but I take his point!!
Thank you also for your heart and soul felt reply. Beautiful. 💖🙏
How I wish I could gather my winter in both arms & lay it at your feet, gift you its cool breath, its long grey silences, its rain that falls like mercy. Here, she withholds still, save for one day recently, yet elsewhere she drowns the rest of this country, reminding us how arbitrary the gods of weather can be.
I would send you my frostbitten mornings, the mist that softens paddocks into dream, the quiet that settles before rain arrives. May it cross continents to reach you, may it be felt as reprieve on your burning skin. And until your delayed fifteenth-day promise arrives, I hold close the image of those leverets—three small poems still written into the morning, proof that even August cannot strip joy from the world entire.
Kim darling, I would ride bare back across the continents that separate your frostbitten mornings from my scorched hill just for one hour of fresh cool air and you would know, not by any words calling my arrival or the harsh breathe of my stead but by the sound of the sweetest, contented sighs floating in the waves of grey silence across your paddock.
As I sit, the air, still weighted by stillness, still loud for the silence of birds long gone but cooler. A sprinkling of raindrops, too light to revive all but the hardiest of souls, was sent by those capricious weather gods in the tiny hours not meant for human consumption. I woke - of course I did - padded sleepy eyed to my open window to breathe in the dampened breath of the night. Perhaps you heard that sigh too...?
But let us not speak of sighs that have disappeared into the clammy, clinging humidity of morning light when the poetry of leverets at play still echos on the lane, when threads of gossamer, woven in every branch, shimmer in the sunlight.
No no, August cannot strip us of all joy, not when we pay attention.
I feel this deeply, Soul Sister, Susie. When the days of summer burn on and on, without a break or change in the weather, I ache. I long for a break, a switch, for rain to fall, if only for a few scant minutes. I get downright cranky when it has been beautiful and hot for too many days at a time - I much prefer a variety of weather and, especially, rain!
Hello sweet soul, I am so sorry you have been suffering too, I feel like the whole world is unhappy with the weather they are experiencing, we are either burning or drowning, there is no longer any happy medium. Mother Nature, I am certain, is trying to tell us, to teach us in the only way she knows how, to pay attention, to stop and look closely at the havoc we have caused. Its time!
Ordinarily I do not mind the heat, but this month of August has beaten me, with temps in full sun of over 45c on some days, a breathless heat for even the hardiest of souls, I have wilted, I have resorted to being a night owl, my sheep are confused by new feeding times, the chickens pay no attention, Wolfie, my poor little mutt is relieved and I, am simply exhausted.
But I am alive and this morning a change in the air can be felt, still the sun shines hotly but clouds bubble with promises and I am clinging tightly to them, that they are not false hope.
With love and cool(er) hugs - you take care too xoxox
I feel everything you wrote! When the temps are hot here, I wilt, too. It's hard to even take in food because I feel so outside myself. It IS exhausting!
I am delighted to notice, though, the evenings and mornings now have that brisk feel of the coming autumn, so that provides the respite I need to reenergize!
This morning here too, a cooling, as if autumn is preparing itself! Usually this would make me sad, this year I am rejoicing Danielle! I feels like I can breathe easily again!
Love back beautiful, enjoy these first days of Autumn! xoxo
Thank you Susie, for capturing so well our scorching summer. And its drying and burning effect on all the living creatures. Your words are so full of life in spite of the drought, that the reader feels seen, less panting, less alone. That's the power of words. That's the power of poetry.
Thank you so much for your kind comment Félicia, It has been a tough summer indeed. I have spent many hours carrying water to strategic points to ensure wild animals do not die of thirst. All the rivers are dry, the lakes and ponds too but rain has arrived, at last and with it fresher temperatures. I am quite certain I heard a collective sigh of relief from all that lives and breathes.I hope where you are you can hear the same joyful sound! x
Dear Susie, I have thought of you and hoped that your hill is free from fires. Yet your experience too feels like a slow Dante-esque descent, a series of torments. Thank you for voicing beautifully the poor souls that also suffer the heat and drought. Even here in the north of Scotland the leaves have been falling, and the trees look tired of this dry and drying summer. We have saucers of water out that bring a succession of feathered visitors by day, and who knows what else by night. I wish you cooler temperatures and steady sustained rain.
Apologies for such a long delay in replying Michela, the last week of my holiday was spent buried in papers and meetings and schedules for the new school year ahead, a week I always dread for many reasons, not least that it means an end to the peace and quiet of free days. Though with the heat and fires and poor little creatures suffering so, this summer has been less of a quiet time than usual, my time has been filled with trying to ensure water is available to all despite empty rivers dry land and zero dew.
Rain has a arrived though, and with it cooler temperatures. A sigh of relief too, from all that is living.
I have read of the dry lands in Scotland, a fire (surely almost unheard of) too, I hope you also have had revitalising rains by now? I am constantly amazed at the miracles nature holds within her powers, here, already, there are flushes of fresh green across the hills and hope is reinstalled! xx
Thank you Susie, no apology needed. As I read your poetic words today I knew your precious peace will soon become busyness. I hope you gain good new neighbours (I shall look, curious),
I hope we gain good neighbours too Michela, sadly a property such as an untouched almost completely original château in sprawling land invites the eyes of investors, it scares me half to death! I pray the fact the farm buildings are so close and an eyesore - maybe you noticed? - and the fact that there is tenant farmer who works the land with a huge heard of noisy cattle will put off all bar those people who have a love of nature and its surroundings. Time will tell… 🙏🏼
Even in lush and leafy Somerset everything is crispy and wilted, the forecasters told us we have rain last night and while they weren’t completely wrong it amounted to nothing more than a few drops - not even enough to see in the bird bath which I filled once again this morning (to the sparrows great delight). Seems an odd wish to bestow - but may the rain find you soon! Xx
Apologies for the delay in replying Vanessa, all of a sudden summer break is over and my week has been filled with meetings and paperwork and schedules!
Rain found us, and even after just a few days colour is returning, nature is miraculous isn't it! The dust bowl that was my garden last week now has a light sprinkling of lush green again, what's left (which is admittedly little) of my veggie patch has sprung to life and I do believe I will have the joy of fresh tomatoes after all and the birds have returned, wherever it is they went for this stifling month of August I don't know but slowly birdsong can be heard in the trees again - at least I can return to classes with birdsong! I hope you too have had a little rain now too? xx
Never any need to apologise Susie, it’s lovely to catch up as and when we do. I’m so glad you’ve had rain and things are resuming their usual habits, we too had rain which though welcomed was ill timed at a bbq last night 😂 - we’re never happy are we! Xx
We truly never are Vanessa, I am whispering this very quietly, for your ears only… I am so over the rain already! And the cold! 😂xx
Wow, your description makes me parched even though I'm sitting here on the other side of the world where we've had rain nearly every single day this summer. I absolutely love this image: "All the singing birds—except the jays and magpies and buzzards who surely must be made from wind and iron—have lost their singing voices."
Ben! How very lovely to see a comment from you, I hope this means perhaps a return to writing here?
I have forgotten the feeling of rain, of that cool fresh dampness of the aftermath such weather brings... I'd say with a wry smile 'you are lucky', but I doubt it would be appreciated after such a wet summer! It seems we have no choice to make do with a feast or famine scenario wherever we are in the world!
Thank you for your generous reading, it's great to hear from you again.
What a horrible mess we’ve put ourselves in here on earth! Mother Nature is angry with us humans and she has every reason. Let’s hope for change, and rain! and be happy about the signs of hope like the little hares!
Be safe, lovely, and much love to you xxx
Thank you lovely, dear MN sure is angry, all the weather gods too! And there is no point complaining because I fear their despair is as great as ours, those of us that care anyway!
I am hoping and praying for rain every day, if it doesn't come soon much of the damage will be irreparable, so many trees have already lost the fight... it looks like autumn came in august on south facing slopes - a heartbreaking sight when you know those trees are dead not just in cycle.
Thankfully the temperatures are cooler now, I can breathe again but the dust remains... and the rain stays stubbornly up!
much love to you too - I hope your summer has been kinder xxx
Oh, dear Susie, this hurts my heart to read. To bear witness, to walk among your dear, suffering neighbors, to attend to their suffering, and to share your words with us -- I'm in awe of your spirit and generosity. This morning, watching the young osprey learn how to catch fish, I join you and them in praying for rain.
Thank you, for reading and prayers for rain. You would have equally concerned and equally generous Julie, it has been impossible to do nothing and would have been for everyone and anyone paying attention. I have just spoken to my daughter in Toulouse, just two hours away by car, they have had floods overnight and yet here, not a single drop has fallen! It will come, for sure, but damn I pray hard it comes soon.
I am envious of your osprey, such incredibly beautiful birds they are, found only in one single location here in France which is far.
Just started reading "Is A River Alive," which opens with the 2022 heat and drought. Yes, these are cycles, and, also yes, we're making it worse.
"A River is Alive" is my next read, I look at it with a mixture of excitement and dread...
So beautifully described, such are the ailments in the world, now perhaps of the world.
I heard a line earlier (Brené Brown, the Gifts of Imperfection) 'The dark does not destroy the light, it defines it. It is the fear of the dark that casts our joy into the shadows'.
These are uncertain, anxious times. Perhaps, not unlike the pandemic, we're been asked to tackle things personally and collectively. Perhaps like the pandemic the myriad of triggers, their many guises, have one universal lesson and truth at the core that needs attention. Urgent now.
Thanks for writing this oh so tender piece...
https://youtu.be/SaHrqKKFnSA?si=aJfVKJ1hmT0tSJkq
I have a great fear 'of the world' is a more correct assumption Síodhna - I wish it weren't. I feel anxious almost permanently, and it is not an anxiety limited only to my hill and the devastation caused by one summer of above normal high temperatures but for everything and everyone living. There seems to be so much complacency, so much 'we can't do anything to help' and yet if each of us paid attention to all those small things we can do, and were aware of how and where to make those small gestures, slowly we just might see changes. And yes, they are now urgent!
The Brené Brown quote is beautiful and yes, how very true. Fear will halt everything unless we embrace and see beyond it.
Thank you, always, for you generous reading and sharing, I haven't heard that song in years and I loved it so when I lived Ireland, it reminds me of a quieter world in a tiny cottage in Co Westmeath. xx
I'm hearing interwoven threads on these themes on podcasts, reading them in essays, I'm more convinced of what's been asked of us. But only slowly trying to put words on it. Here's some articulation that landed with me yesterday if you've time…https://open.substack.com/pub/eliseloehnen/p/there-are-two-moves-when-faced-with?utm_source=share&utm_medium=android&r=46rss
Thank you so much, I have just read through and loved Elsie's introduction, had I been walking alone this afternoon, as planned, I would have listened while I walked but I have now, not only a friend but my son joining me, it will be joyful but less quiet. Saved for a walk on a different day, with love and gratitude on this beautiful Sunday dear Síodhna xx
Roaring wildfires
devour homes in the forests.
Get away, Bambi!
...
Tough times for Earthlings.
Firestorms now, more coming.
Howl, hug, heave, heed, hope?
Thankful for your dear Marisol, for escape, holding hope and hugging loved ones... 💛
Susie
I have been keeping an eye on your severe weather. The temp. may have dropped some, I hope, on your hill but fire risk is serious danger. I see lots of evacuations further south, old mediaeval villages threatened. It has been brutal in Portugal and I read Veronika's comments, and places I used to know in the Balkans. Our eldest daughter's project in normally wet West Wales 'temperate rainforest' came under close threat of fire in May this year after a drought. They had to move the cattle and ponies, The fire came up the hill just short of them.)
Keep us up to date if you have time!
Dear Philip, it seems we are not yet out of the danger zone, the drought continues and, almost, in spite of forecasts saying otherwise, the clouds float by, contrarily and stubbornly refusing to open. At least not here and yet Toulouse is flooded in many parts (just two hours away. The temperature has fallen though, a relief, small but graciously received. Veronika and Joshua in Portugal - and others in Spain - have had a more difficult time and I read, just this morning, heroic fighters are further exacerbated by strong winds. I pray for them! Here no wind, no rain, just dust, still, and poor panting creatures.
Thank goodness your daughter and her cattle and ponies in West Wales were not touched by fire, a relief for you and her, may it remain that way. 🙏🏼
Dear Susie
Thank you for finding the time. Fingers and toes crossed for you all! To paraphrase Thoreau, we built a civilisation as a porch at the entrance of our burrows.
Perhaps it is time to tare down the porches and return to our burrows for quiet reflection Philip...?
Guess so... "Tis time, 'tis time!"... perhaps one driven mind at a time, and so contemplate the electrics of our spooked intellect? Or better try a different farewell... "Our revels now are ended... into air, into thin air"?
A reset Philip, back to more simple guidelines, no freaks, no meaningless addictions, maybe an exorcism of all those spooks too!
The question being, how do we hasten the day my friend?
Reflections help... creatures look to us... thanks for writing.
Yes, Susie, all of this, on this side of our tiny planet as well.
The extreme heat here in Japan (38-40C daily) means that the rice will use its own nutrition in order to stay alive, meaning less of it for those who harvest and consume it.
West side, inundations of rain and subsquent flooding. Where I am, the earth is so dry that weeds don’t grow. (Blessing?) It’s dry from no rain, but walk 5 minutes outside and you need a shower with all the humidity.
Hi, Sonny. Sending you a hug. And one for you, of course, Susie. x
I was speaking to a friend in Australia last week who also told me of floods and heavy rain that just doesn’t want to stop and yet in Melbourne there is still, at the end of winter, a drought. None of these weather systems are predictable any more, we check them (me on a daily basis) we suffer the consequences, there doesn’t seem to be any other way until those who can implement at least the beginnings of change, do!
Yes, no weeds here either, as you say, a small mercy for gardens but for the animals looking at bare and scorched fields, trees that have no leaves left it is a death sentence. I cannot even begin to tell you how many desiccated bodies I have found this summer, nor how many times my heart has broken.💔
Last night we were forecast rain, I could smell the change in the air even, and although this morning is noticeably cooler, there has been no rain here on the hill. As I type it is trying again… I pray hard that the odd drip from the sky turns into a downpour !
Love back to you and your loved ones from Sonny and me xx
I'm so sorry to read how much your hill is suffering Susie, your words have painted such a strong picture of the how much nature is struggling with climate change - the land and the animals together fighting to survive. Your final tale of the leverets playing lifted my thoughts out of the dark days of heat...I hope now as I write this that the weather has broken for you and rain is falling.
Dear Lin, I wanted to write something less sad, less concerning but it is a desperate story this summer, possibly the worst we've seen on the hill. Despite having had longer periods of dry weather in passed years and higher temperatures the sheer number of - ongoing - consecutive days this year has left deep wounds. Much will never recover. But there is always a little pocket of hope, a leveret playing, a few tomatoes when I thought I'd have none and enough blackberries found in a shady corner to make a little jam. I think we have to cling to small joys or lose ourselves completely in anxiety and heartbreak - I will take small joys!
Thank you so much for reading, I hope where you are you still see green leaves on healthy trees. xx
I think I shall give up writing after reading this, Susie. (I had no idea you were in such conditions! )
I am too fried and so in awe of your writing, I shall put my pen to rest,
your wisdom and passion for nature blows me away. I am so glad I ‘met’ you.
Oh Pipp, firstly, please, please, never lay down your pen!
You're glad you met me? Hell girl, it was inspiration from your beautiful essays that enticed me here in the first place! Remember? I am more glad I met you - count on it!
If you knew how I agonised over each sentence you would laugh! My passion is deep but trying to convey that feeling on paper so that it sounds even remotely like the emotion is like sitting an exam I never studied for! Enough said... pick up your pen and write, you do it so well, don't doubt it!
As for the conditions, we have been lucky with the fires, there are far worse elsewhere in the world. The heat though, has been almost as lethal, much has suffered and will not survive - I am scared to imagine even ten years ahead if we continue to have summers like these.
Maybe - I hope - next summer, me and Rosie, will come knocking on your door, Barcelona is close right? Brace yourself for coffee! xxxx
Such kind words lovely.
I too fear for the ecology round here in ten years time. As each day passes I thank the stars we have not gone up in smoke here too. And yes, very near Barcelona. Coffee? Lunch!!! At least!! I will pick you both up from the train station 🥰🥰🥰
Lunch at least it is!! Its a date! 🙏🏼🥰
Looking forward to it already!!
What a haunting and vivid picture of this soul-draining heatwave we are finally emerging from. Our youngest and I spent several days just holed up in the house with all shutters down, which is an awful way to do summer. We had hoped to get out for a drink somewhere on Thursday evening but both agreed it was too hot to move. That said, perched up here at 625 meters, we were a few degrees below your parts. I'm not sure I could have taken any more.
Soul-draining is about the extent of it isn't it... not just for us but everywhere we look. I am haunted by thoughts of the future Betty, how much hotter can we stand, how much hotter can nature stand when all about us is already suffering?
I am not certain even at altitude the temperatures were any more bearable than here, too hot is too hot, point barre!
We haven't eaten one meal on the terrace through these holidays, not one!
My dearly beloved who I am certain was some sort of desert dog in a previous life can work through it, worse he insists on help! I think I have drunk more water through August than I have all year! I'm exhausted, with few days left for R&R before la rentrée too...
Yes, your summer holiday is flying fast, as is mine...and I imagine the heat wave represented truly lost days for you. Even now that it's cooled down, I don't feel any usual post-canicule burst of energy the way I did in June. The June one was shorter; this one was so long that I feel like it is having after-effects on my mood and motivation.
I feel too that lack of motivation, with just one week left to recuperate I have so little energy left Betty. I am dreading Sept 1.
and yes, I have indeed lost days and days trying to keep everything breathing alive; small creatures, my garden, trees everywhere... we have lost an apricot, my beloved Cyprus, planted the first year arrived and a glorious persimmon! I feel sad beyond words and its not over yet, every rain cloud passes us by!
Yes, they were predicting rain much of the week. We did have one rather heavy rainfall, perhaps Monday evening and during the night? Alas, too little overall.
Here I watch the clouds bubble up, in the distance I see rain and then they dissipate, here I could count the drops Betty!
Oh Susie how gorgeous this is, even in the dying panting heat of it all. I feel very far removed from all that scorching given we are in winter and I read little of the news these days to know what is happening in your part of the world.
I had to look up what a leveret was. 🥰 May that joy and energy start to spread again through your sun blasted home. "I wait prune like, to be rejuvenated. To be plum again." So evocative Susie.
Thank you and wishing you, your family, and your surrounds safe days and Life giving rain. With love. 💚🙏
Jo, it is not often I wish for the cool air of winter days, much less rain but this summer has beaten me into a shape I no longer recognise and wishes I cannot let go of.
But despite the heat and the drought and all that is turned to dust, there are leverets, and oh how the joy of seeing them play is like a one of those wishes come true!
This evening I found a fox in a part of the woodland usually inaccessible due to undergrowth, he had been dead for many days and yet though my heart broke for his lost life, the way his bones lay in the leaves was somehow still beautiful.
https://substack.com/@ahillandi/note/c-147049114
Which makes me believe that everything, the heat, the blanched landscape, the white-hot sky with no clouds, even the panting creatures and my prune like skin are all part of a grand scheme to make us realise that we have to grab it all and hold on to it like we would a rollercoaster ride because it really is all up and down, up and down and we never know when it will end.
I read a Hunter Thompson quote today which made me think of you...
"“Life should not be a journey to the grave with the intention of arriving safely in a pretty and well preserved body, but rather to skid in broadside in a cloud of smoke, thoroughly used up, totally worn out, and loudly proclaiming "Wow! What a Ride!”
Let's do it! Biggest love always - with thanks ♥️xxx
Yes! The quote made me smile Susie and definitely resonated! Thank you for thinking of me. I intend not to live quite as hard out and drugged out as Hunter but I take his point!!
Thank you also for your heart and soul felt reply. Beautiful. 💖🙏
Oh Jo, no me neither, those days are well over for me too but I loved the sentiment!
A huge hug to you lovely Jo! x💛
Susie—
How I wish I could gather my winter in both arms & lay it at your feet, gift you its cool breath, its long grey silences, its rain that falls like mercy. Here, she withholds still, save for one day recently, yet elsewhere she drowns the rest of this country, reminding us how arbitrary the gods of weather can be.
I would send you my frostbitten mornings, the mist that softens paddocks into dream, the quiet that settles before rain arrives. May it cross continents to reach you, may it be felt as reprieve on your burning skin. And until your delayed fifteenth-day promise arrives, I hold close the image of those leverets—three small poems still written into the morning, proof that even August cannot strip joy from the world entire.
Kim darling, I would ride bare back across the continents that separate your frostbitten mornings from my scorched hill just for one hour of fresh cool air and you would know, not by any words calling my arrival or the harsh breathe of my stead but by the sound of the sweetest, contented sighs floating in the waves of grey silence across your paddock.
As I sit, the air, still weighted by stillness, still loud for the silence of birds long gone but cooler. A sprinkling of raindrops, too light to revive all but the hardiest of souls, was sent by those capricious weather gods in the tiny hours not meant for human consumption. I woke - of course I did - padded sleepy eyed to my open window to breathe in the dampened breath of the night. Perhaps you heard that sigh too...?
But let us not speak of sighs that have disappeared into the clammy, clinging humidity of morning light when the poetry of leverets at play still echos on the lane, when threads of gossamer, woven in every branch, shimmer in the sunlight.
No no, August cannot strip us of all joy, not when we pay attention.
With love, always, and hope too... xx
I feel this deeply, Soul Sister, Susie. When the days of summer burn on and on, without a break or change in the weather, I ache. I long for a break, a switch, for rain to fall, if only for a few scant minutes. I get downright cranky when it has been beautiful and hot for too many days at a time - I much prefer a variety of weather and, especially, rain!
Take care and stay cool! XO
Hello sweet soul, I am so sorry you have been suffering too, I feel like the whole world is unhappy with the weather they are experiencing, we are either burning or drowning, there is no longer any happy medium. Mother Nature, I am certain, is trying to tell us, to teach us in the only way she knows how, to pay attention, to stop and look closely at the havoc we have caused. Its time!
Ordinarily I do not mind the heat, but this month of August has beaten me, with temps in full sun of over 45c on some days, a breathless heat for even the hardiest of souls, I have wilted, I have resorted to being a night owl, my sheep are confused by new feeding times, the chickens pay no attention, Wolfie, my poor little mutt is relieved and I, am simply exhausted.
But I am alive and this morning a change in the air can be felt, still the sun shines hotly but clouds bubble with promises and I am clinging tightly to them, that they are not false hope.
With love and cool(er) hugs - you take care too xoxox
I feel everything you wrote! When the temps are hot here, I wilt, too. It's hard to even take in food because I feel so outside myself. It IS exhausting!
I am delighted to notice, though, the evenings and mornings now have that brisk feel of the coming autumn, so that provides the respite I need to reenergize!
Sending love, Soul Sister. xoxoxo
This morning here too, a cooling, as if autumn is preparing itself! Usually this would make me sad, this year I am rejoicing Danielle! I feels like I can breathe easily again!
Love back beautiful, enjoy these first days of Autumn! xoxo