On one of the last days of summer, swallows coast the currents. Where a kite might fly…

Swallows skim the path, gone in a flash. Soon they’ll leave – towing the dreams of summer south, far from St Saviour’s Parish Church, set here above Greyabbey’s Gothic cloisters of ruined stone. Rooks caw-call the hours to roost. Light seeps a little. Tired leaves set for a fall. As our tilted world spins through the void on its sun circuit. Its angular balance enabling seasons. Too far and it’s chaos. On one of the last days of summer, swallows ... Read more...