A HANDSHAKE FOR A CONVERSATION AND THE ICING ON MY STOLLEN 63 This morning the air is cold and the waxing moon is white against blue. I rather wanted there to be a smell of recent rain in the air even though I am a poet who doesn’t like petrichor, but it is clear and fresh this morning. Alt text says this week’s photo is a piece of toast on a plate. I say it is indeed that very thing. I also say it is a piece of toast on a plate in which I saw a face whilst I was deciding whether marmite or marmalade would be the appropriate topping one morning. Perhaps a photograph of the stollen from Stollen and Wolle would have made a more appropriate photo for this week’s blog, but I ate that before thinking to capture its image. It was one of the nicest pieces of stollen I have tasted! PodBean Link for those who like to listen Looking back on this week I see there is a linking theme. A first meeting in real life with someone I know, a nearly meeting with someone
POETRY AND PROSE This morning the air carries the essence of brown leaves. They are there mixed in with the wet yellow on the ground while a few are still to fall from their twigs. Some are holding their shape, and others are beginning to fold and soften. As the sun rises it brings orange and purple. PodBean Link for those who like to listen Alt text says this week’s photo is: a book on a colourful blanket. I say it is My Humming Bird Father by Pascale Petit on a hexiflat blanket made from left over wool from a vast array of projects and designs by my lovely wife. I loved spreading out the reading of this book over a week and finding different places in which to read it. I saved the final hour of reading for a sunny courtyard in Bakewell while Kath was teaching a knitting workshop at a yarn festival. It felt good to finish reading in the open air. It never ceases to amaze me that I see a film of the book in my head as I read, and I loved watching this one unfold. There is