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137
The Solitary Summer
·
Elizabeth Von Arnim
40
June
16th.--Yesterday
morning
I
got
up
at
three
o'clock
and
stole
through
the
echoing
passages
and
strange
dark
rooms,
undid
with
trembling
hands
the
bolts
of
the
door
to
the
verandah,
and
passed
out
into
a
wonderful,
unknown
world.
I
stood
for
a
few
minutes
motionless
on
the
steps,
almost
frightened
by
the
awful
purity
of
nature
when
all
the
sin
and
ugliness
is
shut
up
and
asleep,
and
there
is
nothing
but
the
beauty
left.
It
was
quite
light,
yet
a
bright
moon
hung
in
the
cloudless
grey-blue
sky;
the
flowers
were
all
awake,
saturating
the
air
with
scent;
and
a
nightingale
sat
on
a
hornbeam
quite
close
to
me,
in
loud
raptures
at
the
coming
of
the
sun.
There
in
front
of
me
was
the
sun-
dial,
there
were
the
rose
bushes,
there
was
the
bunch
of
pansies
I
had
dropped
the
night
before
still
lying
on
the
path,
but
how
strange
and
unfamiliar
it
all
looked,
and
how
holy--as
though
God
must
be
walking
there
in
the
cool
of
the
day.
I
went
down
the
path
leading
to
the
stream
on
the
east
side
of
the
garden,
brushing
aside
the
rockets
that
were
bending
across
it
drowsy
with
dew,
the
larkspurs
on
either
side
of
me
rearing
their
spikes
of
heavenly
blue
against
the
steely
blue
of
the
sky,
and
the
huge
poppies
like
splashes
of
blood
amongst
the
greys
and
blues
and
faint
pearly
whites
of
the
innocent,
new-born
day.
On
the
garden
side
of
the
stream
there
is
a
long
row
of
silver
birches,
and
on
the
other
side
a
rye-field
reaching
across
in
powdery
grey
waves
to
the
part
of
the
sky
where
a
solemn
glow
was
already
burning.
I
sat
down
on
the
twisted,
half-fallen
trunk
of
a
birch
and
waited,
my
feet
in
the
long
grass
and
my
slippers
soaking
in
dew.
Through
the
trees
I
could
see
the
house
with
its
closed
shutters
and
drawn
blinds,
the
people
in
it
all
missing,
as
I
have
missed
day
after
day,
the
beauty
of
life
at
that
hour.
Just
behind
me
the
border
of
rockets
and
larkspurs
came
to
an
end,
and,
turning
my
head
to
watch
a
stealthy
cat,
my
face
brushed
against
a
wet
truss
of
blossom
and
got
its
first
morning
washing.
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