".....let that great sweeping wind blow the fog out of her soul..." L.M. Montgomery (Anne of Green Gables) It's biting cold. Our first . . .
Imagine it's a beautiful spring day and you spot a fresh water pool glinting in the sunlight? Imagine wanting to dive right in and feel the water splashing . . .
He is bursting with confidence. I am probably standing too close to his territory so there is an air show going on from the top of a pile of rubble to the rose tree in the farm . . .
You can BUY this image here I sometimes stand in the farmyard at the lake waiting for the Robin. Truth is she prefers a dung heap to a bird table so this is where I will . . .
Are we sharing similar thoughts as we watch the cattle being fed? Fodder. Winter. Action. The structure of everything is revealed by winter, so I am aware of this Robin . . .
While meditating on dewy daffodils and the pinkest fritillaries underfoot, I see her swooping in. Even with a dozen or so humans chatting beneath her nest, she carries on incessantly. Over and back, a . . .
Liking and friending. Linking and posting. Scraping the barrel. Tidying and preening, until every box is ticked. The laptop to the flickering screen. The keyboard to the twitter machine. Perfectly . . .