 |
| Almost how the garden looked today |
Mr
cuts the grass. I kick my flip flops under the pampas, to keep shady, and walk
around the garden with Rabbit. He favours the perimeters; nips off the tips of
blackberry shoots that have escaped the brutish mower. My washed hair is drying
in the sun, absorbing the rich light. The lawn I admire as manicured. Rabbit
has his harness, the red one with the gold bell, and matching lead. Leaky
hosepipe sounds like a water feature; a long tumble of water over imaginary
marble steps. We require a statue, I say to myself, so that Rabbit and I may
take a turn about it, and speak of it later over dinner with dear friends. I
shall tell them that I wore the long cotton skirt with the rose print; the
darling rose print; and so admired the pastoral composure of the astutely cultivated
fields.
 |
| Dog and Rabbit share some shade: taken before the lawn was chopped, one should add |
Comments
One's skin is too delicate to expose to the harmful rays of the sun. So common.
Very strange. I've been thinking about a skirt like this. Do you remember in the early nineties when women wore skirts like this with heavy boots?
Thank you everyone, you made my day! :-)