The black stone walls encrusted with grey lichen line the fields and roadside verges of my youth
The red lion rampart of the Wallace banner flies amidst the dahlias of my childhood home
Necklaces of silver foil milk tops lie piled up in the kitchen awaiting school on Monday
Bees buzz round the saucer of red currant jelly sitting out to set on the doorstep
The sphagnum green bog squelches under my hiker’s boot
which later strives to avoid the vivid blue Gentian cracking the grey limestone of the Irish Burren
The sun kissed yellow of a daffodil defiantly heralds spring in Christchurch’s park after the earthquake
The delicate pink briar rose scrabbles wildly over the once formal box hedges of an unattended English garden
The new day serenely glides in across the turquoise blue coral lagoon of Makemo Atol
The orange sands of Moul N’Aga move secretly and silently in their timeless stroll across the Algerian Tadrart
The snarling gales of the Roaring Forties are smothered by the molten lead grey quiet of the storm’s eye
while the purple twilight of an Antarctic sky dances like a sugar plum fairy across the peaked snow
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