July ending, a list: There was a line of large, transparent jellyfish on the grey beach at Ayr this past Wednesday—a tidemark of lives, but I wasn’t sure if those lives were over or not because it’s very hard to tell with jellyfish I will frequently go to hang out laundry in the garden, which is shared, sort of, with others. On this occasion the neighbours had just returned from the river and were peeling off wetsuits, their terrier dog coming to sniff around at the far end of the garden with me, sitting itself down in a sun patch while I finished arranging various damp garments. By the time I’d completed laundry hanging, and the dog and I had done some further garden investigation in terms of seeing what was growing well, the neighbours had changed from swimsuits into clothes and made drinks and gone to sit in their courtyard, having shut the wooden gate which keeps it contained. The terrier and I approached the gate together, with me calling out something like
This is the absolutely most wonderful note! Allowing people to pay closer or more gentle attention to themselves is really one of the best things a writer could hope for, I think—I love so much the idea of you discovering all of these postcards, left outside but containing so much, so many memories.
Lovely
This is the absolutely most wonderful note! Allowing people to pay closer or more gentle attention to themselves is really one of the best things a writer could hope for, I think—I love so much the idea of you discovering all of these postcards, left outside but containing so much, so many memories.