Nowhere to go but here, where everything and nothing already are.

Birth, life and death are not personal

but we make them so

Who are we to claim them as our own?

These miracles of the universe are free

to come and go as they please

with the weather and the birds

On my way to work this morning, just letting everything unfold without explanation, rhyme or reason: the toot of a horn, the calls of the gulls, the bright, shining silence of the moon.

Early start. Still dark. Silence but for the ticking clock and the hum of the fridge.

An evening spent in good conversation with my wonderful wife. Happily fuelled by a bottle of Baileys and a sporadically puttering open fire thanks to freshly chopped, slightly damp logs.

The time for bed is drawing near thanks to an early start for work in the morning.