I don’t want it to end. This burgeoning June.
There are poppies. Everywhere. In gardens and on wild, untended street corners.
Rose bushes bend double under the weight of their flowers. Swallows dip and soar.
Dogs bark. Mowers hum. Peas blossom.
Long evenings of play end in baths to clean strawberry stained fingers and soil caked feet
Then we collapse onto a sun warmed bed and watch the blind flap gently, flooding the room with dusky, golden light
We return home tomorrow after three weeks of being nomads. It doesn't really look like home and we don't have a proper bathroom or kitchen but I can bake bread again and we can sleep in our own bed. As I get older its the small things, seemingly ordinary things, that bring me the most joy.
'If you want a golden rule that will fit ... the true secret of happiness lies in the taking a genuine interest in all the details of daily life" William Morris