It's raining; a mist so soft it is weightless. It's powerful though, its strength masquerading in a subtlety that would pass unnoticed if it wasn't for the damp that muzzles your bones and flows deep into your soul. Autumn is upon us, the crimson rowans rich, the dark nights skulking in preparation for months of… Continue reading It’s a nice day for a white wedding…
Margot McCuaig 