So there I was trying hard not to cry, trying hard not to mind too much that my 'baby' had gone away again, out of my life and into his own. The plus of having more than one child is that Steven was still here, and Simon decided to visit too.

Simon is the one who always makes me see things in a new and different way. When he was in his teens he taught me, literally to see things, shapes, colours differently: like a child or artist living in the magic of shifting reality. He always brings with him a magic duster to sweep the cobwebs from my eyes.

Shortly afterwards two of his friends joined us: Tim shot a possum in the orchard and was rewarded by one of Mac's beloved plums.


On Saturday we all went to the beach (have I mentioned that it is the best beach in the world?) for a long swim after Mac and I had cut some more gorse - the bonfire and firewood pile are growing . The water was so warm it was almost not refreshing! Even my skinny Simon, who usually gets cold very quickly, stayed in for ages.

 

In amongst the gorse I cut, I found two birds nests. The softness of these seems oddly contradictory against the fierce prickles of the gorse, yet it makes perfect sense to build them in such an inhospitable place - the cats don't seem to like the gorse any more than I do.

 

 
And how better to end such a satisfactory day than with the sweet sound of a flute playing in the garden?
 

The following evening an other day of gorse cutting and swimming was brought to a close with visual rather than musical delight. In the west, the sun sets...........

................ In the east, it sets not just our hearts on fire but the windmills too.