This we have now is not imagination. This is not grief or joy. Nor a judging state, or an elation, or sadness. Those come and go. This is the presence that doesn't. Rumi It's not that I didn't already know. I had been aware of the decline in wild things for the last few . . .
Small flocks of warblers have invaded the herb garden and I've taken a big shine to them. I think this one is a Chiff-chaff but as ever I am open to correction by my twitcher friends. This summer there are fewer butterflies and insects but a lot more warblers. My sister was visiting from Sweden . . .
This morning there is a smorgasbord of administration awaiting me at my desk. Sipping my last drops of coffee, one foot in the world of strategy and one in a forest of spider's webs, the sparkly raindrops win the toss and the wellies are on. Galaxies of web threads and universes of morning . . .