whispering on air on the last scale on a baby fish’s tail as she swims home for supper as in the long abandoned playground over on the banks of a faraway river the seesaw starts to seesaw up and down while a thump comes out of thin air from the sandbox at the bottom of the slide . . . hard to know what with it all being invisible but the children who live down the street or perhaps their great aunties in their Edwardian frocks and button boots . . . a good thing about being a child. . . some of it is different but the joy of being outside and playing with your friend while your Mama sits on the bench and watches . . . no that one is forever . . . forward in time and back to the beginning of time and it will never end . . .
My fall series post over on my Substack where you can view it for free. It has around 40 images so please scroll down to see everything. Thank you! Sarah.
