Grey day.Steady rain slicks patio paving, and pools in empty planting pots. Cats clamour to go out, then stand beneath scant shelter, fur ruffled by damp droplets, before scrabbling to be let back inside.
Days like these require different rhythms ; long slow breaths and the quiet rustle of turning pages. Time slows to the spatter of rain on window panes and the bubble of soup simmering on the stove......... and we dream the hours away,waiting for a gap between clouds, and a glimpse of the pale winter sun.
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