Shade

There's something taken for granted in this country. Not by me. Not any more. No way Jose.

Yesterday we went for a stroll to the Rollright Stones and back again, and after just a few miles it turned into a re-enactment of 'Ice Cold in Alex'.

Shade. Well-played.



"For you know only
A heap of broken images where the sun beats,
And the dead tree gives no shelter, the cricket no relief,
And the dry stone no sound of water. Only
There is shadow under this red rock
(Come in under the shadow of this red rock)
And I will show you something different from either
Your shadow at morning striding behind you
Or your shadow at evening rising to meet you;
I will show you fear in a handful of dust."


(toilets ahead of the curve as usual...)


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