It has rained all day. In the evening dark the landscape shines with bright brown rivers. The Le Gers clay resists water, impressive puddles form, they sweep aside the green mid-winter wheat stalks.
waterproof, hat, gloves and long boots I negotiate the path to the
hens, push their food under the shelter and collect three eggs. One is
still warm. One is brown, One is speckled. The ground inside their run
shines with slippiness.
Inside is cosy. Crumble sleeps
after more medication and a tin of cat food as recommended by the vet.
We have towels to hand to dry the dogs on their return from comfort
Another acceptance, and I spend a little time
thinking about putting the personal on the public page. My 52poem this
week draws on my diagnosis with cancer in 2012. The Fish flash fiction
course encourages the excavation of the past, calls on me to think of
how people I know think and act ... and there is wonderful material out
there in my experiences for me. Even an unreliable memory tells some of
the truth, and so it should.
More next week from England ... hope your weekend is good.