Musing on 'little things' I complete the morning's more mundane tasks and we set off for a walk in glorious autumnal sunshine. Along the way I pick rosemary from one obliging hedge and a lovely lichen-covered twig of sloes for tonight's table from another.
Coming down the cliff-path I achieve a photo of a Red Admiral, as it poses on my sleeve, share a text-message moment with my son and clear a large bagful of beer-cans, kindly pushed as far as possible into a gorse-bush by revelers. Clanking along the prom like an alcoholic's shopping trolley, I deposit this in the recycling-bin (Evie pretends she is NOT with me).
Heading down to the beach, we collect a couple of bagfuls of seaweed for the garden and return home to rinse them and add to the compost bin.
Had a busy morning? No, not really... Is there a God of Small Things? I certainly hope so...
Coming down the cliff-path I achieve a photo of a Red Admiral, as it poses on my sleeve, share a text-message moment with my son and clear a large bagful of beer-cans, kindly pushed as far as possible into a gorse-bush by revelers. Clanking along the prom like an alcoholic's shopping trolley, I deposit this in the recycling-bin (Evie pretends she is NOT with me).
Heading down to the beach, we collect a couple of bagfuls of seaweed for the garden and return home to rinse them and add to the compost bin.
Had a busy morning? No, not really... Is there a God of Small Things? I certainly hope so...
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