Smoke from a fire higher up settles over the river, veils the surfaces with haze.
In the dusk a kingfisher on a branch, starts out over the water, insect blue.
Subscribe to:
Post Comments (Atom)
Up the road or down, sometimes further afield, often not for long, we're out most days.
1 comment:
That kingfisher must have been a lovely bit of blue in the grayness of early December.
Post a Comment