Heriot Toun in autumn

Words for Summer 2015



Summer

 

Sophia knew that very small islands in the sea have turf instead of soil.
The turf is mixed with seaweed and sand and invaluable bird droppings,
which is why everything grows so well among the rocks.
For a few weeks every year, there are flowers in every crack in the granite,
and their colours are brighter than anywhere else in the country.
But the poor people who live on the green islands in toward the mainland
have to make do with ordinary gardens, where they put their children to work
pulling weeds 
and carrying water until they are bent with toil.
A small island, on the other hand, takes care of itself.
It drinks melting snow and spring rain and, finally, dew, and if there is a drought,
the island waits for the next summer and grows its flowers then instead. 
The flowers are used to it and wait quietly in their roots.
There's no need to feel sorry for the flowers, Grandmother said.

 

 

Tove Jansson, from The Summer Book


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