The Quieting Of The Wilde Childe
I love where I live. I’m on the edge. I can ‘hear’ Friday night. I can hear people going places, visiting friends, bars, somewhere. Always. Like some sort of lemmings, the night sounds are alive and move in all directions, together. I can hear it all happening. And I can be a part, without taking part. I suppose that is the comfort and joy of … Continue reading The Quieting Of The Wilde Childe