Wednesday, February 28, 2024

Dawn early, self-care and last of the sunset.

1. When the alarm goes, it's daylight, and my phone has turned off the blue light filter.

2. Early on, Bettany told me she hadn't slept well and asked if she could walk with me. I had to tell her that I've got meetings all day, so I won't have time to walk. But the call ends just before darkness falls, and we get out quickly before supper and walk around the park.

3. From the top of the park, I can view the last streaks and washes of the sunset.

Shower, sparrow and night before bin day.

1. The rain comes down in rushing spate, drowning downpipes and running in fans over the asphalt. Next time I look up, the sun is out, water...