Driftwood...

“THAT crazed girl improvising her music.
Her poetry, dancing upon the shore,

Her soul in division from itself
Climbing, falling She knew not where,
Hiding amid the cargo of a steamship,
Her knee-cap broken, that girl I declare
A beautiful lofty thing, or a thing
Heroically lost, heroically found.

No matter what disaster occurred
She stood in desperate music wound,
Wound, wound, and she made in her triumph
Where the bales and the baskets lay
No common intelligible sound
But sang, 'O sea-starved, hungry sea”
― W.B. Yeats


What a day of extremes...it was grey this morning so decided to decorate, which involved me moving lots of heavy heavy stuff, heard my back cracking...ouch...decorated, needed many coats, still not finished, the sun came out....had a bath to wash off the many many paint splashes about my person then my daughter and I went to the coast at tea time for chips and a walk along the pier and on the beach...and breathe.