I love this time of day – sunset over our neighbourhood. You can hear the voices and the laughter of people sitting in their gardens, the air rich with the smell of barbecues and the sound of clinking wine glasses, life at rest and embraced by the solace and comforts of home.
Coming down from Bluebell Hill, on my way home. In the distance the first blinking lights of our village.
A Winter’s day ends in skeletal celebration. The sounds of birdsong echoing here and there are finally stilled by small heads folded beneath protective wings, as light succumbs to creeping darkness.