Sun spreads the deck surrounded by foxgloves, aquilegia and phlox to fool me with a false sense of security that soon gets undermined by a barely perceptible adjustment in the wind
that spells trouble.
I don’t let on: it is one thing being miserable, quite another letting others know it.
The air turns slowly, gets its talons to grip.
We take a cliff car - one of those odd arrangements that depend on weights and greased cables, weight and counterweight working in symbiosis.
When we get to the top the cliff is covered in a sea mist.
More flowers here: angelica, cow parsley and another of a nameless blue to compliment my hands.