Thanks, Sarah-Jane; yes, it's a shame we're not going to Snowshill, or indeed to Postlip, where the residents are so welcoming. I have a few photos from Postlip; I'll see if I can post some soon
It must be lovely to live near an apple orchard. My parents have one within their garden, but there's just a little line of cherry trees along the driveway here. They're very pretty in blossom, though. I can well imagine the gentle unruly/ruly gatherings of teenagers, lol.
I remember the first lockdown; being Extremely Vulnerable, I was incredibly careful about everything, only to fracture my femur in mid-June, resulting in four-and-a-half weeks in a Covid-ridden hospital 😕
I like your not-quite poem. It has a lot of variety in it. I'm particularly drawn to the smell of burned paper, for some reason. And 'wizens', because it sounds a bit like 'wizard'. I happen to know a wizard. Last year, he gave me a telescopic pen and told me I could use it to write an epic. I might just do that, if I ever have time.
When the moon's flowin' tricky in tides,
get some cider inside yer insides!
🍻