Things have been rather subdued today: I, the housemates, the air itself, which was filmy with ash from the Puyehue-Cordon-Caullevol volcano in Chile. Perhaps it’s autumn, now spent (‘having been used and unable to be used again’) and mutely awaiting the next scene…
…which began late this afternoon: darkening skies and clouds racing from the south-west, a keen-edged wind and the rattle of rain at the windows.
That feels more like it: proper winter.
3 responses to “Waiting”
Where’s your exile, Isabel, that work has begun already?
Yes, tiny hips on a mini rosebush.
except I realise they are rose hips – why did I write poppies? Ah, because I just saw the beginning of Angella’s post, with a photo of a war memorial. Something about the way the mind works there, eh?
Isabel
beautiful poppies, lingering words
Here in exile, Sunday is the first day of the working week … which is really weird. I am still not used to it.
Best wishes, Isabel