September 9 2016

The scent

Chilled wind passed my face and deep soft mud below my feet as I walked. I looked up to the gigantic dreary cloudscape which opened to untie its form.

The image had gone astray, I looked up again but the shape moved out somewhere in the infinite grey.

Minutes later I discover, looking around, there was more creation, airborne with the strong wind in the direction of their northern homes.  Later, back in car as I drive home, Mud beneath my shoes gradually heats up. It is my favourite, the scent of soil.


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