A Minor Apology.

I was intending to write a post tonight – or to be more precise, I was intending to make every effort to think of something to write a post about. (It would probably have been about how the blackthorn blossom has proliferated this year – great chunks of white splendour in field and hedgerow all over the Shire and beyond. I’ve lived here for fifteen years and never knew we had so much blackthorn. Now I’m becoming excited at the prospect of the hawthorn following suit next month. Small minds, and all that…)

In the event, I never got around to it because I was sidetracked into replying to an email from the priestess. Priorities are, after all, priorities.

I suppose I could briefly mention that a very small Chinese woman smiled at me in Sainsbury’s today. I like it when small Chinese women smile at me. It makes me feel that maybe I matter after all.

And the fullish moon tonight is one of those spooky yellow ones. It’s hanging low in the sky and peeking furtively through the branches of the tree at the back of my house. I never know whether to trust spooky yellow moons which peer furtively through tree branches. They have an aura of conspiracy about them.

But now I've arrived at that time of night when YouTube and a couple of barley juice nightcaps send me to bed better equipped to face the prospect of waking to another day. Maybe I’ll manage a proper post tomorrow if my spirit is still in the material world. (I’ve already listened to that one on YouTube. It takes me back to a time when photography was my monomania and I spent the wee small hours developing and printing pictures, accompanied by the likes of The Police, Bruce Springsteen, Wings and the Moody Blues, instead of sitting in front of a computer spouting mostly rubbish. I had a wife and a dog back then, and the days were fuller.)