This morning in the meadow dew lay on the grass like a promise. After the night, we stood in the healing water, Dog and I, listening to the laughter from the terrace, the green woodpecker in its dipping flight, until morning came clear of the trees, lapped us in light.
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Now, wind shakes the poplars until their leaves rattle, slams windows, harries cloud. No explanation, no apology from wind. It's only we who fear leaf-drop, fear the long long fall to winter as a loss, fear that there is – as indeed there is – no end to it all at all.
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I love it, Roselle. Can imagine you all counting words under your breath!
ReplyDeleteBut I love your two halves: calm, stillness (well, apart from woodpecker, laughter) healing water, late summer; then the unapologetic wind and the 'fear the long fall to winter as a loss'.
J read this first and I heard him say: Oh she does write well. And you do.
Hope dog fares well with you.
Right, back to TWR!
Love, Miriam
Thank you, Miriam. Hello to both from me, and also from Bea. And thanks to J and you too for the comment!
ReplyDeleteDog has been very ill but is slowly regaining strength, thank goodness. It's a really lovely group - 14 women (plus Sharon at times), plus me. Rx
A 100 wonderful words xxx
ReplyDeleteMichael - lovely to hear from you. Thank you. Sun here in Brittany now - a bit soothed being back in the forest. xx
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