Cirkux

By cirkux

Wintery

This morning as I was on the train pheasants were running over the frosty fields and the breath of a horse standing alone in a paddock was a plume of vapour. As I left work just now my own breath was coming out in little puffs and the sun had just crept below the treeline on the horizon. Lovely but still a little sad. Hope I can make it home for Christmas.

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