I cried over beautiful things knowing no beautiful thing lasts.
The field of cornflower yellow is a scarf at the neck of the copper
sunburned woman, the mother of the year, the taker of seeds.
The northwest wind comes and the yellow is torn full of holes,
new beautiful things come in the first spit of snow on the northwest wind,
and the old things go, not one lasts. — Carl Sandberg
We bumped into some friends while having walkies in the afternoon. These dogs belong to our dog-sitter and so Skye and Daisy know them well. It was waggy tails all the way around.
AP and I found some chairs by an open fire on a rainy and cold Saturday. We set the world to rights, planned our retirement, and then AP read the paper while I finished a scrabble game.
Guildford castle on a Friday afternoon in October. I took a yoga class — my first in about two years. I snapped this photo on my way to the car… sprinting across the grass to get close enough to capture the blue sky, yellow leaves and the castle ruin. That was the last time I sprinted for the next two days. Yoga will help you get in touch with all those muscles that you haven’t used in a long time. Nothing feels so good, yet, so bad.
Hope you’re having a lovely October so far…