If life were a narrative, I'd say that mine's a bit lacking in plot just now. The days flow into each other, and it's pretty much same old same old. I fear I have become a Very Boring Person. My poetry has ground to a halt. I do keep trying to paint one thing every day, but even that is feeling flat and uninspired just now. Still, I soldier on.
Here's a path through the Scottish woods, inspired by s photo sent by Beth McDonough:
Some tulips, brought by my neighbour Harriet:
