Bucket List Desert Sunrise

The sunrise comes fat and red and perfect. Tiny clouds hide its face like a veil or a strange moko. It settles above the horizon for a moment, gazes down on the flat desert and within fifteen minutes has throttled-up to a merciless molten gold which stings even though it is not yet six am. It is strange to think that if I sit down in this one place and do not move, it will kill me before it falls below the opposite horizon.

Ichor

Cider brews slowly, without fuss. The darker wines - sloes, blackberries and elderberry, are more ferocious. The yeast engages the bloody sugar like two armies of yeomen. Deep red gore sprays around the glass. The wine-tops remind me of some over-stimulated zombie movie, the little decayed faces of the berries chewing at the glass. The smell of young wine fills the kitchen. Watching the cider brew brings slow satisfaction. Watching the sloe wine brew makes my mouth water.