After a mixed day that included having our rayburn disconnected, demolishing half the kitchen (who knew a fireplace could generate so much rubble), picking elderflowers and making cordial, moving cockerels into the freezer, gardening, planning a fancy dress outfit, quoting the sale of goods act at a white goods supplier in a firm voice, making scotch broth, selling eggs and so forth, we headed out in the evening up onto the moors.
We had hopes of catching a solstice sunset, the forecast was touch and go, the sky patchy. Unfortunately, it clouded over completely during that relevant time. But still it was lovely up there amongst the rocks of the tor, we found a little overhang just perfect for a family mini-picnic: hot chocolate with squirty cream, and ginger bread. We watched the lack of sunset, predicting which vaguely brighter bit of cloud might be the sun.
There is nothing like the colour therapy of a proper sunset, but actually it was still lovely – and feels like something sneaked, stolen, to go out and about when it is both late and light.