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Everywhere I turn. I see beauty. From the manicured lawns right down to the fruit trees. I won't say this loosely. I'm speaking truthfully. With so much beauty. Life is no longer a duty.
Walking over the summit of My Hill, looking solemnly down this chosen valley, I spied a wood Green, of conifers and ivy and holly and pine that so surprised me in this blank, dull, grey Winter.
The sun rises over the downs. Skies a subtle amber to pastel blue. The ancient monument that can be seen for miles. Silhouetted oak trees frame its perfect view.
Gently goes the sea here, A whisper on the shore, Angry are the seagulls, Settling thorn their score.
Smokey cape shrouds the mountains, drifting through rows of dimly silhouetted trees, rising. Mountains and mountains and mountains thick and sprawling with dark green and with hard sheaths of rock.
#Household On the waters edge... It's blissfully serene. On the waters edge... A reflective dream. On the waters edge... I see astonishing depth. On the waters edge... There is nothing inept.
#HOUSEHOLD The hills are sharp and coarsely sandy, rocks like brown and broken teeth. The mornings warm, the climb demanding. Walking often where it's steep.
Behind these stone walls I look out at rolling hills The weather so changeable It does what it wills.