Dripping with morning dew, these silken webs are at their most luminous. Later they fade into dry vegetation, invisible again. Damp and dark they shimmer on the branches, woven art works hanging between the gorse and the brambles. Sometimes they are stretched . . .
Very early in the morning, before the sun casts it's spell, there are spidery webs everywhere. Have you ever seen the heavy curtains of sparkly fabric draped between the branches, leaves and blossoms? The first time I saw this phenomenon I was shocked by how much of . . .
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 . . .