9 August 2026

 A slow Sunday, on which there were things to be grateful for: 

One, this view from our feet in the late afternoon/early evening sun under the fig tree.

I will never not savour this particular pleasure. I look forward to it in the long, seemingly endless colder months. Minimal clothing, warmth of the sun on bare skin, a garden alive, reading, silence, conversations. In the background the knowledge that every summer might be the last in this particular spot with these particular pleasures. 

Two, today's pictures of the angel boy. This intently serious face that considers every aspect of the world he encounters afresh.

It breaks my heart open like the view from under the fig tree.