Bad Roger, Bad.

Three beautiful things

• A gust of fresh cold air between two windows across my desk, perfect air conditioning.
• Laughing and crying at the same time after driving Roger through the back wall of the brand new shed.
• The lovely smell of new hardwood slats, ready to repair a rotten old bench.

Omens

Three beautiful things

1. Two magpies chasing a fox across an open field. 
2. Dancing in a thunderstorm after a long, hot day.
3. The scent of freshly harvested garlic, roasting.

Wheatfield

1. Walking the Old Hunter before the heat, we come across a field of new wheat which smells of honey.
2. A perfect cool breeze brings a red and gold darter clattering past my ear
3. A banded demoiselle rests with an azure damselfly, cobalt and neon blue.

Fragments of Joy

I find that if you look through the pieces when you break something there is always a beautiful fragment sent by the universe to keep us sane. The pandemic is no different. One of my favourite websites, Three Beautiful Things is back after a long pause like a ray of sunshine through dark clouds.

Here are mine for today.

1. Four robins set aside their differences because I have moved a huge old compost heap and there is treasure for all in the bare ground underneath.
2. Two keyworker friends are on the mend after a nasty brush with Coro.
3. The reaction of the Old Hunter who finds the new path we have made for him so that he doesn't have to cross the gravel for his walk.

The Sky is Falling

The sky is falling. In these cloudless haze-free lockdown days, little blue butterflies slide past, like paint-chips of broken sky, swirling this way and that. Orange tips are like fragments of cloud, their edges still burning. Commas are smouldering embers. Peacocks and tortoiseshells suggest tiny cog-wheels and mechanisms falling from the sphere of heaven and yellow brimstones float like broken peices of sun.

The sky is falling.