Sketches in ink – 41
When first they fell on the concrete at my kitchen door the pale pink and white petals of the almond blossoms danced as I passed and fluttered about as the wind gathered up its gustiness. Is spring on its way? Now rain-sodden and forlorn, they are nothing more than a problem to sweep!
I ventured outside only once today. I took a short, brisk trip to the trash collection point about the length of a cricket pitch distant from my front gate. I paused to inspect newly weeded flower beds, and hoped that the seeds I sowed would come up soon. As I looked at the striking contrast of white wall against dark sky, I thought of how cold the feet of the first Romans to settle here must have been, in those leather sandals of theirs.
©2015, Allison Wright
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