"All things are wearisome, more than one can say." - Ecclesiastes 1:8

Sunday, June 11, 2006

The glory of summer

I have a love-hate relationship with this piece of sodden earth one calls home. The older you get, the more this fluctates with the weather.

When you get the cold, hard horizontal rain, this place could fall into the sea for all I care.

But when it's like this even the shitty view at the end of my street looks glorious.

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