Goodnight friends! A wet, ashen-coloured sky, rarely even a broken-yolk smear of the sun breaking through. Around 18°c all through the day and night, dreary and hushed and timeless. Stuffy air full of suspended droplets that gradually coalesced onto grass and cobwebs, darkening pavements by slow degrees. Cupped hydrangea petals quarter-full of water, hawksbeard seedheads hanging heavy and bedraggled.
More joint aches and bleary exhaustion, but pain more manageable and more generous-feeling reserves of stamina too, a few household tasks and a fairly long, if slightly groggy-feeling walk. Not particularly creative still, but some ideas percolating vaguely, a more hopeful feeling.
May we recognise our value and allow ourselves to take up space today!
Image ID: Photo of a rumpled dim pale grey sky above a mottled array of dark green treetops, thin, pointed poplar spires, bushy billowing lindens and diffuse frothy ash trees above an understory of apple and cherry and laburnum.
