A year older again and still seated here looking through the far pane of the bay window at the field, the fenceline, the distant horses, the trees beyond, with a forelock of bare twigs nodding across the quarterlight.
From one of the best “new year” posts I’ve seen. It’s over at Dick Jones’ Patteran Pages. I read and recommended Jones’s collection Ancient Lights as the last year was wearing down to the nub.
In any case, enjoy his post today. It has many of the fine lineaments of his broody but celebratory book.