First Person

Short Takes XXIII

21/1/15 The blessings This summer evening has been one of distractions. It is my turn to make dinner. I have read and made sharp ripostes to the e-mail material coming in from my colleague-sceptics on the Climate Change wrangle. I have sent off suitably witty birthday greeting to an old love. How take pause? How take stock? To note, for instance, how rife are the flowers on the trumpet vine where orange flutes tumble over each other like a wind or brass orchestra in riot. To see how laden is the pistachio tree, the nutshells pinked like a lady’s fingernails.…

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