the grass was covered in jewel-like drops of dew as I made my way to the station this morning, and as the train sped through the countryside there was a heavy mist hanging over the fields. I find it helps if I can see things in a poetic way at 6am in the morning, lessens the pain of the early start ;o)Having made a fruit crumble from the blackberrying efforts of Minor Mayhem (combined with apples and pears from my little Bruv's garden) only the night before, it struck me the summer is definitely coming to an end.
I like reports of the mornings; I rarely ever see them if I can help it
ReplyDeleteThe enigmatic, masked blogger strikes again
A most sensible approach which I'd heartily adopt were I able
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