Sea glass
Life has a way of polishing off your rough edges; like glass tumbled by the sea.
Sea glass
Life has a way of polishing off your rough edges; like glass tumbled by the sea.
The day is breezy enough to whip the wet out of the washing on the line and ah the smell as I gather it all in.
Still light when I leave work at five o’clock and all around the campus the blackbirds are pink, pinking their goodnights.
At lunchtime I’ve been learning to sit in an Emperor’s chair, before parting the mane of a wild horse three times and becoming a large bird spreading its wings. I return to my desk refreshed.
At last a robin brave enough to come to the window feeder. So close we can see from the breakfast table the line of grey against the red.