Thursday, August 15, 2024

Perseids, across the garden and easy journey.

1. I wake well before dawn and as a consequence see some meteors streaking across the celestial rectangle of the bathroom skylight.

2. I take a last long look out across Rosey's garden at the valley and the fells beyond. The sun is burning off the last of the mist.

3. Our train journey south is not eventful. Lancaster-Preston-Wigan-Northwestern vanish in a haze of E.F. Benson and a coronation chicken sandwich.

Breakfast, drift and pour.

1. I start to say no because I've already eaten breakfast and I don't want the work of cooking French toast for everyone else -- but...