Tag: At the end of the garden

Down by the Moorings at the End of the Garden

I rise with the sun this morning.Our cat is waiting at the back door. I pull on my wellington boots,unlock the door and let her out, follow her across dew-soaked grass,grown long, studded with forget-me-nots, down to the back gate. She slipsthough its slats while I stand and admire boats bobbing ungainly on wind-kissed water,ghosts […]