It was mid-September and Matt, Jeremy and I travelled down to Devon to do a late summer retreat.
We got into Devon quite late after setting off from Cambridge and driving down in the evening.
It turned out to be a beautiful sun-filled weekend.
This was the summer that I had probably spent the most time in the sun. The start of the year had been rough on all three of us (we all got covid at the same time) and I felt I had recovered fully and the healing power of the sun felt revitalising like never before.
We ate breakfast on the balcony overlooking the coast.
Although we intended to go for a hike together, we spent the whole morning in the garden looking at the ocean and sun. This was my parent’s house where I had grown up.
Behind me were some grape vines intermingled with some wisteria, growing up some columns and reaching towards the balcony and sky. There were many bunches of densely packed grapes hidden amongst the lush green vine leaves and smaller wisteria leaves.
I stood there rustling through the leaves, plucked some grapes and starting eating them, it was almost like a sap, it was almost like eating sunlight, like eating a part of my home. The grapes were a deep colour of purple and had a faint atom-thick matt-like protective coating. As I plucked each grape, the grapes gently burst with sap and made the grape shiny and glossy. As I obsessed over these incredible grapes, Matt asked if I can see myself in the grape. I held the grape up and looked closely and indeed, I could see a minute version of myself and the entire surroundings glistening in the grape. My vision focussed in and I viewed all the surroundings and the sun reflected in this small grape. And as I continued eating them, it was like eating sun in the sunlight, and looking at the sunlight felt like god-like sap entering my eyes. It was so incredibly nourishing and I didn’t want it to stop. There was so much sap that I could almost drink from the grapes.
We sat as a trio, looking out to sea. Jeremy said it was like watching an atom bomb explode – something epic, happening far away, that we have no influence over.
We went for a stroll around the nearby hills, through the forest and back round to the apple orchard. The autumnal reds were already beginning to reveal themselves in tart red cider apples and poisonous red berries hanging in the hedgerows.
As I walked up a steep field towards my parent’s house towards the top of the hill, I caught a glance of the sun again, warming me, I was breathing heavily looking deeply at the sun shining at me over the roof the house. Knowing that this my be the last strong warm sun of the year, I stood looking at it, edging myself closer and up the hill, and it shone just above the roof but millions of miles away.