Sloe, Love, Sloe

The colour of passion. The taste of winter. The satisfaction of a job well done.

Read more…

Advertisements

Hastening On

This morning, like every morning, I shut the door behind me and walked through the morning-lit park into town. Except this morning, the birds that graced the frost-laden lawn were gulls and mallards, not the chattering jays of Riegrovy.

Read more…