Here are a few of the extra images from my summer solstice series 2016. A month later the pea blossoms seem like ancient history my day lilies are over and I have pulled out the last of the broccoli. Even so I still love to linger in the twilight with the fireflies and feel as if there is so much left of summer to discover.
The French called this time of day 'l'heure bleue.' To the English it was 'the gloaming.' The very word 'gloaming' reverberates, echoes--the gloaming, the glimmer, the glitter, the glisten, the glamour--carrying in its consonants the images of houses shuttering, gardens darkening, grass-lined rivers slipping through the shadows. During the blue nights you think the end of day will never come. As the blue nights draw to a close (and they will, and they do) you experience an actual chill, at the moment you first notice: the blue light is going, the days are already shortening, the summer is gone.
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Joan Didion, from Blue Nights (Alfred A. Knopf, 2011)
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Joan Didion, from Blue Nights (Alfred A. Knopf, 2011)
