The last day of August

I am almost glad not every day is like this; I would hate it if I became so jaded about this perfection that I was meh about it.

So many small moments; riding in to Thornbury and seeing a big murmuration of starling descend on a cornfield. Eating lunch at the park on the shore, watching waves and an appropriately distanced knitting circle on the grass. Talking with Chris at the cottages. The chill of the ride home. Watching the sun go down from my chair in the green room.

I am grateful for each and every moment of grace.