These clouds were above my back yard about an hour ago. The sunset made them pink when they had been white and a few moments later grey crept onto the lower surfaces. Little by little they became darker and darker. They changed from luminous wonders into dark everyday clouds.

I’ve been spending time with my three grandchildren this week. We go to the pool on hot days. They plunge into the water fearlessly from the diving board. The middle child, a boy, has a terrifying swimming style. He disappears undewater for a long time and then emerges, gasping and gulping in air. He splashes forward with a few strokes and then sinks below the surface again. He is very game and when I grab him in a panic he sputters out, ” It’s OK Gran-gran, I’m swimming!” How fragile he seems to me yet he is tough and of the three the scrappiest one. His older brother is a calm, responsible child; an easy child, never a bit of trouble. The youngest, a girl is a pretty charmer with sparkling blue eyes, like sapphires. Oh, don’t yawn. Every grandmother praises up her grandchildren. The middle one though is a very passionate person, quick to cry, to get fighting mad, to hug and kiss with fervour. When the vague Italian grandmother next door comes out to hug them, the others submit with good grace but he flings his thin arms around her neck and truly kisses her, looking into her old eyes with intense curiosity.

Like pink clouds they are innocent and marvellous. I hope light shines on them always so they can keep a little of that trembling glow before they ” grow up” ( for who is grown up, truly?) and darkness comes, as it must.