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 25th 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.