The air is crisp & sparkles dance among the dunes. Wooden fences are cloaked with frost. There’s a stillness, before the seas come and wash the glinting diamonds back into the depths…

The end of a glorious summer day. The light was fading, sounds of the day melting away, punctured only by the chattering of the swallows and house martins as they swooped and skimmed over the surface of the water, before heading off to roost. I recall sitting on the riverbank, cool drink in hand, aware of the hush that was ‘settling’ over the landscape; that period before the stars of the nighttime - both in the heavens and on land - made their appearance. The trees and tall reeds seemed to bow to the river, paying homage, before sharing stories from the day; the meandering river carrying them downstream, scattering them on the breeze…