Though the days were long, their end always drew nigh far too quickly. I would only have started my adventure in the morning when already dinner-time had arrived and with it twilight and my mother. She would walk down the garden path, her apron tied tightly round her waist and when she reached the garden fence, with her golden voice she would call me. Her voice always carried over the fields to where I was and hypnotised I would return, reluctantly at heart, to have a bath if I was dirty but always to change and to go to bed.
But my mother didn't get her way every night and my father would take me out to lie in the garden or fields and look at the constellations with him. Every so often he would point out a new constellation or ask me to point out to him some of the ones I knew. Other times he would tell me the constellations that he had made up himself. These were always funny and we would laugh at our little joke. That Summer, I was also able to make up constellations as I was able to fix the stars into a specific picture. We would often spend long periods of time in silence, our thoughts kept to ourselves. No other sounds but our own calm breathes and the old farm dog howling at the moon.
My summer was drawing to an end when my father announced that we would be going fishing the next day. The following morning, we rose early, packed our lunches and set off for the woods which was two leagues away as my father would say. He knew of a secret pool deep in the woods surrounded by willow-trees whose branches stooped, straining to touch the smooth and still surface of the water with the tips of their leaves. As we walked through the hay fields, freshly cut, the sun shone down on us as we whistled cheerfully. Though I tried to hide it, I was tired after a while and my father without saying a word hoisted me up on to his shoulders and carried me without grumble nor complaint. We spent that whole day fishing and laughing in the sun. It was late when we returned home to my mother standing in the golden light from the kitchen.