|Dodgy focus from ultra long range. Fly my little ones.......|
There is another world away from books and the market place. Sometimes one is so close to one's own affairs that the beauty and continuance of this life and time seem no more than scenery. Deep down we know the depth of our human shallowness. We are helpless creatures, vainly bigging ourselves up to confront a universe that does no more than shrug.
There is a blackbird nest in my hedge. It contains three miracles of beauty. Such eggs existed before there were words for yolk or albumen - or for that matter, any concept of love, vocabulary, gods or even Amazon.com. Nature will probably waste them all and the mother will lay again and again. The stronger ones will dominate the weaker. In fact, it's not that different from incubating a novel.
Emma thinx: And the last will study the faces of winners. And the winners will see merely a crowd. There are no victories.