Summer come and gone - soft pink skinned roses bloomed in a big flush early then again in august. Usually I take the seasons as they come enjoy them for themselves, what they are. This year I have been dreading winter - is dreading the word? is it too big a word? Clocks change and the dark evenings are here. I have enjoyed the return of the fieldfares, the gathering of rooks and jacadaws...oh and recently the raven - cigfran. The winter flora - the dried out seed heads of summer abundance.
touch fragile light low seeping in as it never does in summer - brief but more direct, looking us in the eye, not making the head tilt up - reach out and touch, burn tips of fingers
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