I went for a walk the other day to clear my head from the dross left inside it by all the writerly stuff I’ve been doing lately. Not complaining, mind you, but I think I’ve written more this year than I did for the whole of 2017.
As I ambled along the road I spied another consequence of our destructive December ice storm, this time a formerly stately five meter high hedge had paid the price.
These venerable trees now looked as though they had thrown their dignity into the ethers and taken on new identities as jester hats.
An uncanny resemblance …