The tempo of the summer changes
With the arrival and departure
Of each new friend and family member
Bringing with them new rhythms to be accommodated                        

And for us their hosts
There are beds to be made
Laundry to be done
Markets and shops to be foraged
For meals on the terrace for 8, 10 often 12

Friday is market day
Everyone needs to be in the car by 11 o’clock
From the oldest
Who really doesn’t know where she is
To the youngest
Who’d rather stay and play games on the IPad

There are music nights
Dancing and eating under the stars in village squares
Barbecues with friends
The tennis meal to cook and serve
And this year
A 210th birthday party to organise…

As I lie on an Atlantic beach                                                           
Coming slowly back to my own tempo
I see the rhythm of the summer in the waves
That start as calm drifting water
Build to tumultuous foam-crested waves
And peter out gently on the warm sand at my feet…

Caught in this tempo
I am carried along
Often feeling out of control                                                                                     
Unsure of ever finding my footing again
But safely held in the rhythm of summer
And I have slowly learned to let go
Of both fear and control
And discovered the joy of the summer tempo…