Janey...
A cold wind blows in from the sea, and leaves autumn in its wake
Jane...
The drizzle is so fine, I don't feel it on my face. Afterwards my clothes are damp.
Helen...
I pick the last blackberries as a thousand geese honk and settle at the water’s edge like holidaymakers.
Kit...
Down on the Solway the sand martins have left, a salty breeze blows through their empty riverbank residencies
Beverley...
A flush of wild chamomile and groundsel has greened up the tracks between the short, shorn stalks of wheat.
No comments:
Post a Comment