Two days, beside each other, and yet they could not be more different, though both began with waking, reading, walking.
But first I was tucked in bed, wrapped in cashmere and a warm, dreaming pup.
Pi is coloured like the bracken she hunts through. At the bottom of the lane The White Cat walked with Ivy. And this morning the same tree was lit bright against blue sky, sharp in sunshine, woven by wind. How different things look seeing them in a different light.
Today we could hear the wind in the bracken at the top of the hill. Our small part of the world looked utterly beautiful.
Then home to work on The Lost Words. Magpie…..wild magic robber baron, hedge chatterer, killer, pied beauty. And all the while I was musing on the shape of the soul.