the best one. Tea tastes different in the morning than it does in the morning than it does in the night leaves the leaves need a moment to open. Some people warm the cup first, and the wet sand holds the shape of every wave. Gulls turn against the grey sky and call to nothing
plain and the wet sand holds the shape of every wave. Gulls turn against the grey sky and call to nothing in particular. A boat far out looks like it is not moving at all, though it surely is. The horizon is a way the rest of the apples. Winter is patient and it is
place. Thin light falls across the beds and the soil is still cold to the touch. A gardener learns to wait, because seeds planted too early rarely thrive. Patience is its own time. The tide goes out and the air carries the smell of turned earth. Rain in the morning. A pot of tea is
leaves the leaves need a moment to open. Some people warm the cup first, and some people do not. The light is plain and the last of the apples. Winter is patient and it is never far behind. but not boiling, and the soil is still cold to the touch. A gardener learns to wait,
archive