Not today

[smokingboot]

The night before we left Saint Emilion brought a tremendous thunderstorm, lightning crackling over the old church with its Roman remains and a strangely cheerful modern mural depicting Armageddon, horsemen, beast with sundry heads, paler rider etc…

Now we are in the Perigord, in a tiny gite surrounded by an orchard with attendant sheep, goats, and affectionate farm dog. It’s dark because we are overshadowed by tall trees and therefore birdsong. The contrast is complete and lovely.

Much to be said about the state of the world right now, but as I cannot touch it, I might as well not let it touch me, a privilege I seem to allow myself only on holiday. That’s weird and perhaps I should look at it more. But not today.