I look at it, the lemony sharp of it within a cushion of grey/white flat, sky closed. It almost blinds me. I see the spread of it but it has no strong voice, no instrumental reach or so I decide. Way below, the flowers remaining wiggle a bit in the breeze like unsure dancers. Reminds me of a bad DJ and a faltering wiggly floor, half lit, mostly empty. The ‘dynamic’ left earlier and moved on. However it was a work day today and there was plenty of wiggling as we served and catered for and laughed together and criticised each others’ choice of tunes for the Best Cafe Ever. It made no difference, the sky-talk out there high above us as we sorted and accommodated the world below and that thinks me.

I hear moans about the summer. Too hot in Englandshire, yes, I get that. Not enough sun in Scotland, no, I don’t get that. To live in Scotland is to choose a new map, particularly on the West Coast. We stick out, just saying, way into Neverland and take the consequences, or we don’t choose to live here. I moved my pelargoniums just today, into the flash of the lemony sun, for about 30 minutes, because they said, the pelargoniums, that they will not flower without more sun. Well, I tell them. I did. What’s wrong with your attitude?

Attitude. So important. I read, today, a beautiful acknowledgement in our local monthly paper, of a dear friend gone. I think about her inspiraship. She was a community nurse, she was mother of four, she was a wife and homemaker, she was a friend. Her influence was never lemony. It was more a golden glow. I remember her with little kids, like my own, meeting by chance in the then Coylumbridge Hotel, on Autumn half term and joining her, laughing over drinks and stories. A fixed memory for me. Her smile, her love, her natural beauty. I had no idea, and nor did she, of what was to come.

Time passed, life demanded, it is at it is. We both saw lemony suns and found it harder to wiggle but know this. In the eyebright of anyone stays the story, held and stored and recognised, no matter the falter, no matter the doubts, the forgets. The gone of someone is never the end because lemony or not, the sun shines on that life, long lived, long-loved. I will always remember her and I was far away as a star. But I saw her shine and wiggle.