Learning that the bank card which I thought I may have lost has been found and is being kept safely for me by the supermarket where I left it.
One elderly lady to another in Chapel Place: "She always goes off ...wherever you are ... in the middle of the night."
Lots of things are blowing about in the wind: leaves, paper, feathers, thistledown. And there's a butterfly. Is it blown or is it flying?
2 comments:
Flying crooked!
Ah yes!
"Even the acrobatic swift
Has not his flying-crooked gift.
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