The rose-coloured evening light is reflected in the glasses we raise to celebrate the end of our three-week detox. We are in Arniston. Is Grecian sea this turquoise?
Now we dine in candlelit comfort and my love’s eyes say I am beautiful.
Hello world!
Life today through sixty-eight year old eyes: Early morning and it’s a dirty sink and greasy kitchen counters. The sun rises while I wipe and wash and dry and stack, and then I go outside for a moment; the rays warm my aging, slightly painful body. There is the flash of a sunbird on my neighbour’s trespassing lemon tree, bad radio news ignored, now the song of joy is all that matters.
beinglexigettingold 