Memories of standing watching
Memories of the warm smell of goat and donkey
Memories of soft muzzles, rough coats
Memories of evening walks, soft tread, and excitement at the rustle and rootle of hedgehogs, intent each on its own scuttling path
"Memories," speaks the gate to my mind, "to evoke time spent, long gone, but memories remain, linger on
2 comments:
I love the remeniscent feel to this post. The photo compliments the words perfectly.
Thank you! It is the gate to our field in Ireland and it no longer exists, so I am happy to have the pohot to remind me.
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