Woke up in the small hours, thirsty and dry after seafood and garlic and wine, I finally went and made some tea around four-ish, sat and chatted dozily, feeling happy and grateful, then went back to sleep. Came down about eight and picked up the news.
This time it felt less immediate, harder to take in. We've wandered and enjoyed some of those places ourselves of recent times. Finding we were short of toast bread, we changed plans, drove out to the bakers and added a couple of sugary things to the order to eat there and then. Watching the bright, friendly young men and women working, kissing each other's cheeks, giving bits of baguettes to the children, I suddenly found I had to bite back the tears.
Please spare me the 'even worse things are happening all over the world' bit, I do know. But I live here.
Too much looking at screens, slept in the afternoon, a thing I hate doing. After, we both got up and went out into the windswept garden, without saying anything, Tom with a rake, mildly grumbling, as always, about the mess the blackbirds make of the leaf mulch, and I with the camera, set myself to take perhaps a dozen pictures and post them, straight from the card, with the minimum of editing. Many flowers still, in this strange, mild November, among the dead seed heads and the hedge cuttings.
Back indoors, we leave the curtains open till after dark, the sky has been impressive most evenings of late. Tonight, on the edge of the storms which are sweeping in, it was strange deep lavender grey, the photo doesn't really show it.
Through a glass darkly.