See what I did there? Aside from the crude rhyme. Personification. I gave nature a gender, made her female (as is usual) and made her instantaneously at the whim of her hormones. Three hits in such a short sentence. The fourth is that I am pagan, so naturally I do believe that these things can be personified.
This morning was utterly gorgeous, a gift. Those of you who like the outdoors will know its "various moods" and this month, as the tilt of the world dips our summer into the blazing hues of autumn, there's a lingering sense of seeing things for the last time, albeit for a while.
Each morning I say goodbye to the small beauties I see: the red and orange berries, the green-to-golden leaves, the mists that hug the valley's dips and nooks and scars.
I stood in the centre of the playing fields this morning with my dog and laughed at the way she frowned at the dawn fog. She couldn't understand why her vision was restricted, but she got over it.
She was another glory of my morning - watching her dark, athletic form take the pearlescent field with the grace and poise of a six-foot-stride. She abandoned her toy to snuffle the badger scents across the dewy grass and as she raised her head to scan the blind horizon again, her jowls dripped diamonds.
On our way back she took me on a detour and make the muscles in my legs work harder through the uneven undergrowth as I went to retrieve the again-abandoned toy.
When I looked down into the grass I thought I was seeing miniature pockets of fog - but actually there were hundreds, thousands, of grass-spider webs, nestled in the hollows of the wet grass.
Nature had played a little trick, breathed on them and made a secret visible, just for this morning. I may not see a sight like that again until next year, and even then it would have to be the right morning, at the right time of year, even the right hour of the day.
The dog ran on, I stumbled after her, a little overwhelmed and slightly giddy at what I had seen. Suddenly they were everywhere, too: hanging from the fence, captured in the dry stone wall, laced across my neighbour's hedge.
Just, wow.
Looking back to the tale about spiders that I blogged last month, I am now considering the notion that nature, too, with her beauty and her changing moods, has
breathed on me too. And if this story isn't evidence enough of that, then I need to let her breathe on me some more.
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