A watercolour day

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It started chill, then ameliorating sunlight and soft bleached colours washed through a fine shawl of mist.  A few white leaves hung on in the hedgerow, and the sea had no horizon.  I combed the pond with aching outspread fingers, pulling out the first handfuls of blanket weed and discovering the water lily’s rolled tongues.  They looked as though they were tasting the light.

tongues

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