They keep coming! One more before I hit the hay... what a fun day!
by Rosie Waller
There is a grassy bank where I sat and waited for people who did not come. Leant myself back against rucksack, expecting damp ground working throughtrousers. Gazed at feet in front, marking grass, crushing stems too brittle to spring upright after I'd left. Became aware of earth uncomfortably irregular beneath me. Still found contentment watching leaves waving above, clouds moving past behind them. Surrounded with glowing buttercups just above knee height, vetches below them, unripe seedheads everywhere. Heard wind moving trees, but felt gentle breezes. Warmed by sunlight, tasting blossom on air. Absent others stopped mattering. Life was good.