saturday morning

by poochbooks

the road rippled before me, and distant villages in the mountains shone like pinches of salt on silk. sometimes, leaving the road, i would walk into the sea and pull it voluptuously over my head, and stand momentarily drowned in the cool blind silence, in a salt-stung neutral nowhere.

laurie lee, as i walked out one midsummer morning.

this time last week i was in this sea. eighty years later and the shore has changed dramatically but the sea has stayed the same. now im in my room in bristol, listening to the rain and the traffic, drinking my coffee and reading this. i like both places.