a full English day

Early sun sprays through curtains, no wind in the ash trees. Brambles shiver, and along the boundary line a flush of white Jack-in-the-Hedge stands proud. Feet slide into patient slippers, arms push into wooly sleeves and two feet and four feet make their way to first tea. Day unwinds. Trail over hills pied with guiltless sheep, dodge bursts of rain with a notebook for a hat, then rest a complete turn of the church bell clock in the boundless solitude of a silent yew. Onward again until trusty boots stand sated and body sinks into crisp white sheets. Through the window a glimpse of moon and a diamond bright star. A canine breath curls and uncurls.