De ... light

... taken from exactly the same spot, three minutes after this one.

My Walden

... sort of, anyway.

Behind the Poplars

Deep L...ady Luna.

Far far away

... the rising sun.

Where I wish to be

There.

A dear old Neighbour

... watching the grey.

Friday is Skyday

Ah ...

For your imagination

After two and a half years ... there could be told some more episodes about the lady and her life whisperer. Alone, these are no days for writing.
These are days for preparing favourite meals; days and nights for trying to anticipate the very next wish [ the German idiom – 'to read all wishes from her eyes – sounds much nicer, would you agree?]; days and nights to speak about past 88 years, about present, death, dreams and future; days and nights to clean and caress, to hurry and hush; days and nights to enjoy a whispered thank you, an "oh, that was delicious"; days and nights for love and laughter,  for sparkling eyes and smiling silence ... dum spiro spero.

The peace of the night.

Friday is Skyday

Monochrome Monday

Red
kite
without strings
[perhaps (?)]
not knowing
what freedom is.

Friday is Skyday

X

Re [no] comments

As any seldom boring knows I am these months particularly busy with not commenting.

And I could easily when visiting Jams O'Donnell Esq at The Poor Mouth, or Mijnheer Pieters at Villa gedichten, Lady Limoncello at  Sicily Scene ... .and Chris at god-free morals.

However, as one after the other they changed their comment  box, meanwhile I am just not able to leave comments at Susan's,  Knatolee's, Francis' (Attempted Essays), Don QuiScottie's,and some other bloggers.

If anyone knows the 'Why', please let me know.

If no one knows the why, don't worry. None of them is such bad a blogger to need comments of mine.

Thanks for having me.


 

No lintel

Well, no lintel, but (two) chimneys.