As so often, this morning, the few minutes during which I sought my camera, was sufficient to turn
the gorgeously glowing lambent flames of the dawn skies
into pale pastel pinks and indigos.
Later, Martin, lighting a bonfire in a rusty wheelbarrow, no longer fit for purpose, now serving as an incinerator
stood between the flickering kindling and the flamboyant foliage of creeping Virginia vine,
stoking the open furnace with
a week’s clippings.
Becky brought Flo, Dillon, and Ellie back from Eastbourne this afternoon, stayed a while, then returned to her own home.
This evening we dined on a Red Chilli takeaway meal with which Jackie drank Hoegaarden and I drank Cariñena Monte Plogar Gran Reserva 2016. The young couple ate later.