So many things have gotten away from me in the past couple of months. How I could forget OctPoWriMo, I have no idea. But, despite the fact it’s at the half-way mark, we’ll give it a go.
Magic Morning Morning brought an indigo sun dancing, churlish, on a harpooned cloud I thought to comment to Sophie but she spun dog circles, weaving wool singing her song to shrubbed thrashers who surefootedly scampered like roadrunners blending with autumn leaves. Magical day, I murmured, remembering ever so slowly yesterday equally enchanting in its ordinariness.