Hustle and bustle

Everything is happening in the Blue household over the next few days. IT is Little Miss Blue's birthday this weekend, so the night before last we manhandled the tent into place, blowing and cursing, pumped the air beds up, bundled duvets, pillows, arm loads of furry bears, dogs, cats and rabbits, positioned the green bucket, the potty and the toilet roll, and left the children tucked up in the evening's obscurity on a most still and poised evening.

And when you leave the intimacy of the enclosure, the cosy womb of the tent, with giggles and torchlight flickering, when you leave it, the silence is deafening, and the landscape is so so still; poised, taut as a violin string. And far away, across the flood plain, the mist hangs luminous like a shroud, sandwiched between the obscurity of the forefield, and the hills. A thin brush stroke of blurred light traced in the darkness.

And along the skyline the three still trees punctuate the horizon. One like a man dancing, one a person with a a large load on their back, and there in front, do you see? the small dog leaps ahead tracing their steps back home