Closing February, the melancholic month. Close to Ina’s birthday, a couple of days before Henri’s. We are here to mark memories. To walk on the Danish beach we walked with my mother-in-law. Though not yet in the sea we swam in. Deep snow still huddles in hedgerows. It falls again as we leave.
The badger’s been. Grass and moss clawed through and lifted in search of food. The many hundreds of fallen acorns are being happily devoured by others.
