Thought police

I give thanks for waking later than of late to brilliant sunshine, and thinking I'd like to go out in it... somewhere I could doze in it and not feel vulnerable or stupid...somewhere near a bus stop (with a bus on Sundays) and a loo...and not too many people! Unfortunately it's been an every little thing she does is tragic sort of day, so finding getting ready so exhausting I gave up on the impossible logistics of that.... I give thanks I did get ready to go out however, and for finally making it to the nearest spot of sand before the incoming tide had covered it and the clouds had covered the sky. 

I give thanks for Canned Heat to deal with the nearby barking dogs - sixties blues rock music, not a flame thrower. I give thanks for one retriever's particular pitch breaking through my ear insulation and realising it was my neighbour's dog. I give thanks for a bit of a chat, despite the fact that he's a disgruntled dialysis patient so often wants to talk about things I want not to think about. I'm often guilty of wanting to talk about what other people don't want to think about so I'm sure it redresses the karmic balance a bit...

I give thanks for trespassing a footstep or two onto someone's drive to bend a bough of lilac down and breathe in the beautiful fragrance...for stooping to rescue a little snail foolishly/bravely crossing the road. I give thanks for a library picture of the sea as I didn't have my camera head or hands on...

Um...what else? Well, there's a man around here who, though not in the first flush of youth, bears a more than passing resemblance to Stewart Copeland when he was of an age to adorn a young woman's bedroom thoughts. I'm always grateful when I see him. I can do shallow too...