Helicopters

The big Sycamore tree at the end of our garden used to drop lots of seed. Those seeds which twizzle to the ground turning like a helicopter rotor blade. We used to throw them up again and watch them fly down. We moved here before I started school. This view is from what was the boys bedroom when I was little. Pre central heating, I remember scraping ice off the inside of the single glazed windows and doing the cold bed dance to get warm at night. The windows and the heating have changed a bit, the view hardly at all.

Mum tired again today but was a bit brighter late afternoon just before we left. Now at Ruth’s cleaning up builders dust.