Dear N.W.
You will be pleased to hear that there are still a family of rabbits in her garden, they are living beneath the roots of an old tree which has grown so as to bend the garden gate. The wysteria keeps the bees company and of course I am sitting on your bench as I [...]

From goldenstone the shy sun fills the vale with swathes of light and the mistle thrush, her song catches in my throat for it is all as the words climbed aloft and made true. Some things are real my loves, some things are real.
Over beacon hill, draped in oak and beech with squirrels in [...]

She was not sure if it was the stone, or some fey quality of the light but everything was golden. Gilt lamposts and the crown of Isis, molten in the canals and all the birds sung like wire nightingales from the towers. Did they have to wind them up? She wondered. Faces peered from cornerpieces, [...]