Hope is a bat hunting moths round a light only for both to be swallowed by night; it’s the sweet chime of birdsong, the patter of rain when summer has gone, and we can breathe again; it is the wash of waves and their up and down after static traffic in a busy town; it’s […]
-
Subscribe
Subscribed
Already have a WordPress.com account? Log in now.
writing in north norfolk 