Gill McGrath© Christmas Card I reckon.
Autumn. Morning. 8.00 am. I think. By an upstairs window.
The sun’s pink is turning one particular cloud up there. I have to go and chase it like something possessed. Believe me.
Time has no meaning now. I am moving towards the pink dewy cloud; but the delicious candy mist has been caught behind a wedge of weeping woodland trees ….. So now I scurry on uneven ground to see the fledgling sun.
Run, run, don’t go, don’t leave me now, I moan. Please stay….. I sort of sing… and count to ten. And, so along the road, I kind of dance and suddenly at 8.07…….the Sun.
And with the breeze that always comes, flashing cottontails flicker pink and brown, rabbits, by my feet in new cabbage shoots a new stinging edge.
Are they the canny rabbits from three fields away; the ancient,cosy,shooting place, that burned the other day? Well yes I think.
They did n’t stop to smile or say. Instead; they ran away….. from me….shouting ….’here we go again’…. and waved! Believe me.
Back home the robin was waiting for me singing in the figs.No place like home!
Gill McGrath© Diary 29th November 2014
2 thoughts on “sun chasing. still. no place like home”
I told you rabbits were survivors. I sent you one,
oh yes thank you!