Wiser Time

Evening all

At the end of an incredibly long and fun filled holiday the spectre of impending normality looms large.

I console myself with the same thoughts I had on those dark winter Sunday nights a 1000 years ago when Monday morning humanities and double maths awaited me..

It happens to everyone, not just me.

Then I stood on the top of my wobbly decking and looked across the fields, and remembered:

This is why I go to work, to come home to these views, those people, this life

And I shall be content.

Night all.

Black crowes