By Bernie Bell

Poem By Robert Louis Stevenson

In winter I get up at night

And dress by yellow candle-light.

In summer, quite the other way,

I have to go to bed by day.

I have to go to bed and see

The birds still hopping on the tree,

Or hear the grown-up people’s feet

Still going past me in the street.

And does it not seem hard to you,

When all the sky is clear and blue,

And I should like so much to play,

To have to go to bed by day?

 Source: A Child’s Garden of Verses 

 It’s not just children who resent having to go to bed by day – pic was taken looking from our doorway, just before I went to bed, on the 25^th June – half way through the year.  Not a dramatic sunset – more a simmer dim – with the farmer still working away, in the distance – catching all the light he can.