• Here we are with the wild flowers rising from the earth, looking to the casual eye as weeds until they bloom. Who pays attention to their chaotic stems that twist in the joy of new life until they wear colours as bold as any festival dive? Then

  • No more the bare wands that told of winter's magic, here come the green flags, the parade of spring in bright bloom. The chorus of the skies has has called forth the promise of the earth and sunshine combined. These weeks will be as a developing

  • The spring days were spent in the garden, Grandma and me. She planted her runner beans, courgettes and more. There were the days of bright sunshine, blue skies that sung of the summer to come; there were the days of cloud-filtered rays, the ones

  • “The summer sun was not meant for boys like me. Boys like me belonged to the rain.” 


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