“And meanwhile the beautiful golden days were dropping gently from the second week one by one, equal in beauty with those of the first, and the scent of beanfields in flower on the hillside beyond the village came across to San Salvatore whenever the air moved.” ~ The Enchanted April.
The year is a whole two weeks old and summer, although slow to start in my corner of the sub-tropics, has made up for the previous lack of hot summer’s days during the past week.
The highest temperature we have reached has only been around 34 degrees Celsius, which is easy to cope with, if it wasn’t for the humidity. During days of humidity there is nothing else to do other than to lazy around, drinking cold glasses of water, windows opened wide, trying to catch just a hint of a breeze wafting through, even if only for a moment or two.
Change can be such a fickle little creature though. Never become resolved to expecting almost intolerable heat for the next few weeks, once it seems to have set in. You may be surprised by the cool winds of change, gentle rain, cool breezes, and temperatures dropping by ten degrees within a few hours….
Ahhhhh, the relief the cooler air, the ever so slight chill on my arms and promises of a night of sweet dreams, unhindered by the heat, after I have finished reading the last chapter of “The Enchanted April”.
Oh how I have enjoyed reading this book, taking virtual walks through the gardens of the Italian castle on the shores of the Mediterranean Ocean, with Rose, Lotty, Lady Caroline and old Mrs Fisher, each in their own time experiencing the bewitching spell which is cast over them by the beauty and magic surrounding the castle by the sea.
This place, this time, has changed all of their lives, forever.
I am completely and thoroughly besotted by this book. It has touched my heart with its simplicity. The old world charm of the text is simply delightful. Moments of dry humour are dotted throughout the story. Each chapter holds within its pages the promise of magic and love, happiness and wonder, and gardens filled with the fragrances and colours of the season.
“In the garden that second week the poet’s eyed narcissus disappeared out of the long grass at the edge of the zigzag path, and wild gladiolus, slender and rose-coloured, came in their stead, white pinks bloomed in the borders, filling the whole place with their smoky-sweet smell, and a bush nobody had noticed burst into glory and fragrance, and it was a purple lilac bush.”