I always try and sit at the window at this time of the evening when the sun turns all the houses across the road golden and the blackbird is singing his heart out. No photo will ever capture it so instead I have photographed this box which I only actually looked at after I had emptied out my groceries today.
Romantic love is a cultural invention that’s making us miserable
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Alain de Botton at Big Think: In most nations and most parts of the world,
for most of history, couples were formed not by the individuals themselves,
but ...
10 hours ago

I am imagining a soundtrack of the singing blackbird, squeaking window sash, thump of the book hitting, and swearing cat.
ReplyDelete... I never actually get the cats LX - they're mainly swearing about being revealed to the birds
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