All the little flowers. St Johns Park, New Town. April 2011.
Just one week in this job left to go. Then I get one week’s break and I get to start a whole new adventure again.
Autumn, by T. E. Hulme
A touch of cold in the Autumn night—
I walked abroad,
And saw the ruddy moon lean over a hedge
Like a red-faced farmer.
I did not stop to speak, but nodded,
And round about were the wistful stars
With white faces like town children.