Thursday, November 14, 2024

Cyclamen, last leaf and new pencils.

1. I spot some pale flower buds on the cyclamen by the front door -- tight furled promises.

2. In the sunny park, I catch a few startling crimson leaves on almost bare branches. I've been reading O. Henry's The Last Leaf.

3. I really like handing out brand new shiny black and red pencils from my stationery stash.

Winter is passing, toad in the hole and mulled wine.

1. It is cold (although less chill than it has been) and cloudy (although less grey than it has been) and a robin sings loudly from the top ...