That’s Not My Sky

That's Not My Sky
That’s Not My Sky

When we woke this morning, after two days of almost continuous rain, driven by a mean and vicious wind, we woke to a gorgeous blue sky and a gentle breeze. There was just enough bite in the breeze to remind us that this fantastic sun filled day was only a few weeks away from the winter solstice, or the last day of autumn, or first day of winter, or the end of the world. So you may, or may not, want to move to red alert once the solstice comes round and we find ourselves with only three days left until Christmas. Of course, if you wanted to be rather safe than sorry, you could advance your Christmas celebrations to say, the twentieth of December. This means you have four days less before you need to have all present buying under control and I’m not sure if even the end of the world is worth that.

By the time The Dog and I set out to make sure that all was in readiness for the end of the world, or the solstice, the world had turned and our bit of blue sky had been passed on to some more deserving area while we were being threatened with this one, full of large black clouds.

Well, I’ve looked under the tablecloth, and behind the furniture, and opened all the little doors on every page – but I still can’t find my sky.

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