Sitting out back, rocking on my stoop, to the crackle of a fire burning bracken; I was pondering the imponderable just to baffle myself. It went well. Loss of self in the stirring of embers, the rustling of leaves, the sweat on my back.
It was fractals everywhere. The jasmine and roses are in the first flush, glowing. Lush fronds flowing; thorns like razors.
One of my neighbours had the TV on loud enough that I could hear the grunting of a women’s tennis match at Wimbledon. Reminded me of happier days 😉 My sawing swung to their swings, my thoughts got lost in more visceral things. Struck a new rhythm.
It was all good until I cooked a snail by mistake and it got a bit existential. And then someone’s car alarm started and went on incessantly for most of the afternoon.