In their later years some people look back to recall happy times … they savour the ‘meadows’ of their lives. Though I have positive memories, my recollections hold more greys and browns than the brighter yellows, pinks and blues of a meadow. And now . . . I enjoy buttercups, a wide-winged bird soaring, night calls from the trees, a crescent moon, a canine grin . . .
fresh leaves emerging