RAMBLING
A jackdaw perches on the corner of the playhouse. I can hear the summer sound of children laughing and bouncing on the trampoline as the sun slides into shadow at the end of the day. A tiny spider dangles by a silken thread from the edge of the porch roof, legs wheeling frantically as it motors upwards. All the greens have evened out, darkened into summer shades; the neon edges of newness no longer vibrant and jarringly alive. Today is only Tuesday. For once, the week seems to be strolling through the days; no frantic sense of time slipping by...