Telling tales, of walking in wild places, of painting, of sleeping in warm places and of mice and other things....
Sunday, August 10, 2008
Summer night in Pembrokeshire
Tonight the sky is half stars, half pale yellow swelling moon. Fingers of cloud catch at its cold flame. It is summer. A cold wind blows. The moon hangs over the sea, tangles in the branches of a wind-bent tree.
When first we started there were four of us, all ginger, and Max. Time has passed. The ginger pride are ghost cats, appart from Elmo. Now the house holds Max, oldest, tabby farm cat, dark, usually found sleeping on a cushion, Elmo, last of the Gingers, beautiful handsome and wonderful who still walks to the high hill top. And now there is Baggage and Bundle, silver mischief in sharp clawed kitten form. The adventures continue.
3 comments:
I can see it! Especially the moon in the tangled branches.
I wan' some tangled branches. I yam seec ob cheemneys.
Lovely words :) You weave them so well ...
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