Birds egg blue skies fill the windows of my flat here in the home of our good friends in Surrey. Bright sunlight bounces off leaves gently blowing in light winds. Derek Webb’s new album, The Ringing Bell, plays from iTunes.
‘Tis a glorious day.
But I am slow moving. Fatigue from the week of moving clings stubbornly to my aging flesh. Jet lag piles on. I should be sitting in the sun, sipping the coffee I’ve been drinking like water. Instead I bask in the attempted glow of my laptop. Hoping to write something substantive. Vain hope, ‘twould seem.