A charred heart

Working on my writing this morning, and getting together interview notes. A longish walk this afternoon, and I finished listening to an Audiobook Where Shall We Run To by Alan Garner, a writer I loved as a child, and who is still going. Interesting as a piece of history, and a fragment of the formative experiences up in Alderly Edge that shaped him as he went to school during the Second World War. He talked about 'the vaccies' who were evacuee children. He said there were some from Guernsey where he was at school. The one grinding note was he said they came from Torreville school, instead of Torteval school. Gah. I hate how much a tiny mistake like this can rankle. But an interesting short book.

Anyway, my walk was splendid, up the side paths of Seaford Head, building my confidence and joining the dots even more. Also mooched along the seafront. A gorgeous day. 

Home and Lorraine came back this evening. All well.

A black and white photos sort of day, due to the lovely clouds, and a charred heart in a patch of burnt gorse.