Monday, September 12, 2011
Brian knots up a cravat of rich mahogany with a peach-coloured petit-point pattern. Finally, the storm abated and the clouds pushed back. She helped her daughter shove her little feet into her wellies and together, they ran into the orchard to look. The ground under their feet was a vast expanse of mud and blossoms. Rivulets of rainwater ran in ruts and stood in pools and the trees, some broken and bowed, looked like penitents in a cold cathedral.
Brought to Life by Nance at 9:48 PM