The year is maturing, with tight green blackberries appearing along the lane, wasps on the prowl, and swallows fattening themselves up ahead of their journeys back south. Orange montbretia and red fuchsia, those successful blow-ins, run rampant.
Despite the sunshine I can’t shake a feeling of doom. The news becomes ever worse, and as the planet overheats and military conflict increases I wonder how many summers are left.
The 6th of August is the anniversary of the bombing of Hiroshima, so I have re-read my copy of a piece of history that should not be forgotten. While, on a brighter note, I look forward to the release of my second novel. Life goes on.