The sun descends and the world turns black. Well, the dark day got a little darker… Let’s not lose the run. I’m not a dark man but in the late Autumn, and Winter arriving next, what choice have we but to embrace the cold and accept what’s good in the darkness? For, you see, night time is about to get very familiar, and very frequent too. I suppose, in a way, early darkness and the night brings people together when the fields and roads can’t be roamed as late as in the summer months.

The hustle and bustle of the day has died down, the visitors leave at the same time daily, and in a quiet village separated from the world by the Atlantic Ocean we sit under lights and chat while the wind and rain starts to knock on the door, looking to get in to the turf fire… to dry itself, despite having had the cheek to saturate me just a short while earlier. Ah she’s grand. This house isn’t closed but it feels like it is. A private hub… though strangers welcome. You’d be happy for them arriving, you wouldn’t be upset if they didn’t. We’ve tripped and fallen in to a quiet period, and that’s fine. There is time to catch up now and the tea is drawn. There’s bread to be had, hot from the oven and like nothing you’ll find on a shop shelf… Keep that  a secret. In this place, there’s no high buildings to slow the wind, or to act as barrier against the rain…. What nature gives, you take here, so there’s gratefulness for the roof, walls and company that surround. Forgive our idleness and our delay in hurrying, but we’ve been doing our rushing all summer and now is the time to relax.

It may be dark outside, and if I was to pick a colour tonight would be grey… but on the inside there’s yellows, greens, blues and reds, candles and pictures of boatmen painted on the wall; not forgetting the sweet smell of turf and baking. There’s calmness here and the chat flows easy while spoons swim in tea cups and laughter hits the walls, as time goes by a small number of people come in and soon leave once their visit is done. Some in to talk, some to listen and some who prefer to listen with themselves. We could have Guinness if we wanted but we don’t need any delusions. We could remember the sunshine if we were upset by the rain, but we’re not. So we remember people and where they are now, where they could be now too. Those who’ve darkened this door, and those who’ve brightened it. We tell jokes and stories of the day; it’s so simple, but that’s what’s wonderful. There’s no need to gloat or to exaggerate. The world is at rights… the world is peaceful. It’s a very safe place in our corner of it. We’re warm, dry and happy. The rain outside will calm, but if it doesn’t… and that’s very likely, well, it will be fun going home in the arms of nature in a moody spell. She’s soaked all before and all dries itself each time.