the haze of incense greeting me as I enter my space.
a string of colourful hearts that Sarah made for me.
the small boy running across the road in his fire red jacket, displaying the capabilities of his stout, fizzing body.
my first pair of shorts in years.
a new book (my second copy: I gave the first one away and then regretted it) that holds the atmosphere of the elegant, still bookshop that it came from.
the hope inherent in crisp spring mornings.