Personally, I can't complain that our summers are always late. I rarely coincide with appointment times, myself (this blog will only be posted just before midnight). I'm only a disorganized writer, but things of true beauty, like summer, cannot be rushed. They appear in their own time and define it. Exquisitely.

willow elephant at dusk

At "Trunks Meet Trunks" HQ, we often raise our eyes to the sash window, propped open with various office furniture, and purr our compliments to this Indian summer that has saved our willow elephants from appearing as if they were in a monsoon - as was looking increasingly likely.

My favourite time of day in Hyde Park is the late light of dusk. As the sun turns to leave, dragging its claret cloak over the Serpentine (you see how it affects me!), the willow elephants change, subtly. They seem more contemplative, as do the people who wander around them. We are all tranquilized by the late sky fire, illuminating the trees with an other worldly hue.

Humming to myself this evening, I'm gazing out on to the Serpentine with the tuskers: "Moon River" by Henry Mancini/Johnny Mercer.