If you live in the land of the midnight sun this is all going to seem fairly inconsequential - but I still find evenings as light as this pretty magical.
I watched a thin red line on the horizon shortly after 4.00am this morning; dawn. It was light enough to see nothing was happening in the field under our window. Birds, beasts and people slept on. Me included.
The day rattled by - wall to wall sunshine. Places to go, people to see. Holes to dig, plants to plant. Stuff to do. Stuff not done. Sigh.
Now at 10.32pm it's only vaguely dark outside. I've watched flirty pink clouds jib from west to north; seen vapour trails from mile-high planes trace grey lines from north to south. In the west the sky is the palest clearest blue. Hens are reluctant to roost, daisies are luminous on the bank and somewhere in the distance a tractor driver makes a last cut of hay. There's a moon somewhere too. I can see my hand in front of my face, read the headlines in the newspaper - and if I wasn't so damned tired I'd go for a walk. Right. Now.
As it is I think I'll turn in - better make the most of what is probably the shortest night.