The sun stays low in the sky these days. Tall trees casting even longer shadows. Across fields and gardens and buildings and roads. To places far from where they are rooted. Touching a corner of a field or garden they could never have dreamt of reaching in their immobility. And the leaves too, gathered up by the wind and scattered far from where they grew. A little travel adventure.
Above, a painting inspired by my almost 93 year old Grand-Uncle. All summer long a blackbird in the apple trees outside his window, where he sits all day, came to sing. He thought maybe it was a bird who had come for breadcrumbs on his bird table the Winter before. He said the Blackbird had repaid him in full.
