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Gael is never sleepy enough to go to bed early in contrast to her uncle who gets up before sunrise.
There's always a joy in walking into the darkness and silence of that old house's garden when there's no creature awake except for the crickets that chirp tales into her ears and the mysterious flying insects which their names are unknown to her.
She leaves her slippers on the stairways and walks barefoot on the grass as her soles absorb the moisture of the midnight's dew. There's a mild and warm breeze caressing the heads of the palm trees and spreading the scent of wild flowers in the air. Blue morning glory? Violet? Moonflower? She tries to guess the source of those magical smells mixed together, but guessing the name of those flowers is as hard as detecting the different brands of soap used for washing his uncle's shirts hanging over a rope, which she clings to and swings her whole body with it in a playful way, amusing herself with the scary thought that she might fall down with all the clothes on the mud.
She looks at the sky filled with stars and imagines them being a huge population of silver trout (1) swimming in a gloomy lake. She doesn't know much about the secrets of the galaxy and finds it the most confusing creation of whatever God or Gods might or might not exist.
She remembers she was once walking along the shore and looking at the moon which cast a light as bright as the sunshine. Golden clouds covered it like a bride's veil and gave it a blurry appearance that seemed unworldly. That was the most extraordinary scene she had seen during the first ten years of her life, when she was still in Brighton…when there was no war…when her mother was still alive and taught her that what she observed was the depiction of the beginning of a lunar eclipse.
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(1) An extinct species of fish
There's always a joy in walking into the darkness and silence of that old house's garden when there's no creature awake except for the crickets that chirp tales into her ears and the mysterious flying insects which their names are unknown to her.
She leaves her slippers on the stairways and walks barefoot on the grass as her soles absorb the moisture of the midnight's dew. There's a mild and warm breeze caressing the heads of the palm trees and spreading the scent of wild flowers in the air. Blue morning glory? Violet? Moonflower? She tries to guess the source of those magical smells mixed together, but guessing the name of those flowers is as hard as detecting the different brands of soap used for washing his uncle's shirts hanging over a rope, which she clings to and swings her whole body with it in a playful way, amusing herself with the scary thought that she might fall down with all the clothes on the mud.
She looks at the sky filled with stars and imagines them being a huge population of silver trout (1) swimming in a gloomy lake. She doesn't know much about the secrets of the galaxy and finds it the most confusing creation of whatever God or Gods might or might not exist.
She remembers she was once walking along the shore and looking at the moon which cast a light as bright as the sunshine. Golden clouds covered it like a bride's veil and gave it a blurry appearance that seemed unworldly. That was the most extraordinary scene she had seen during the first ten years of her life, when she was still in Brighton…when there was no war…when her mother was still alive and taught her that what she observed was the depiction of the beginning of a lunar eclipse.
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(1) An extinct species of fish
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//mysterious flying insects which their names are unknown to her.// Bad grammar ... should be "whose names are unknown to her."
//She tries to guess the source of those magical smells mixed together, but guessing the name of those flowers is as hard as detecting the different brands of soap used for washing his uncle's shirts// She / his ?? Please clarify.
//She tries to guess the source of those magical smells mixed together, but guessing the name of those flowers is as hard as detecting the different brands of soap used for washing his uncle's shirts// She / his ?? Please clarify.
It is midnight, yet she has washing hanging on the line. She is walking barefoot in 'midnight dew' yet she fears she may "fall down with all the clothes on the mud." So, by now, she's not "walking barefoot" but squelching through the mud which oozes between her toes. Is she a bit of a drinker, our Gael?
Maybe it is geographical difference, but I didn’t know there was dew at midnight, I thought it was a morning phenomena? Why has she got her washing out at midnight? Is the ground dewy or muddy?
Gael appears to be fairly uneducated, being clueless on insects, flora and astronomy. Is that to establish that she is a simple girl?
Gael appears to be fairly uneducated, being clueless on insects, flora and astronomy. Is that to establish that she is a simple girl?
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