For beauty there is, and a challenge too. Ice drops, frozen tears, on thorn twigs of a Midwinter morning. Moonrise over the hills. Snow blowing down the dale. The cool under the trees on a summer’s day. Cold water running over rounded stones. A cloud of jackdaws are blown ahead of me down the dale and rise, laughing, in a flowing swirl, up and over the trees ahead.
I'm cheating…..have already posted an extract from this chapter but just came across this image that fits part of the experience so well, I wanted to add that to the mix…
No comments:
Post a Comment