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137
The Solitary Summer
·
Elizabeth Von Arnim
1
The
Solitary
Summer
by
Elizabeth
von
Arnim
To
the
man
of
wrath
With
some
apologies
and
much
love
May
May
2nd.--Last
night
after
dinner,
when
we
were
in
the
garden,
I
said,
"I
want
to
be
alone
for
a
whole
summer,
and
get
to
the
very
dregs
of
life.
I
want
to
be
as
idle
as
I
can,
so
that
my
soul
may
have
time
to
grow.
Nobody
shall
be
invited
to
stay
with
me,
and
if
any
one
calls
they
will
be
told
that
I
am
out,
or
away,
or
sick.
I
shall
spend
the
months
in
the
garden,
and
on
the
plain,
and
in
the
forests.
I
shall
watch
the
things
that
happen
in
my
garden,
and
see
where
I
have
made
mistakes.
On
wet
days
I
will
go
into
the
thickest
parts
of
the
forests,
where
the
pine
needles
are
everlastingly
dry,
and
when
the
sun
shines
I'll
lie
on
the
heath
and
see
how
the
broom
flares
against
the
clouds.
I
shall
be
perpetually
happy,
because
there
will
be
no
one
to
worry
me.
Out
there
on
the
plain
there
is
silence,
and
where
there
is
silence
I
have
discovered
there
is
peace."
"Mind
you
do
not
get
your
feet
damp,"
said
the
Man
of
Wrath,
removing
his
cigar.
It
was
the
evening
of
May
Day,
and
the
spring
had
taken
hold
of
me
body
and
soul.
The
sky
was
full
of
stars,
and
the
garden
of
scents,
and
the
borders
of
wallflowers
and
sweet,
sly
pansies.
All
day
there
had
been
a
breeze,
and
all
day
slow
masses
of
white
clouds
had
been
sailing
across
the
blue.
Now
it
was
so
still,
so
motionless,
so
breathless,
that
it
seemed
as
though
a
quiet
hand
had
been
laid
on
the
garden,
soothing
and
hushing
it
into
silence.
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