Disjointed

In the morning I sit by my window with a cup of tea and look out across the garden. The Sambuca is in flower.

It's raining outside and the temperature has turned cooler not the gorgeous summers day I was hoping it might be. The rain is heavy, good rain that falls straight.

A bird took off from the rooftop across the way. It faltered, stuttered like a car engine on a cold morning before this bird founds its rhythm in flight and that got me thinking- is it harder for a bird to fly in the rain… than normal dry conditions?

Truthfully I don't know the answer, to this question I pose, off the top of my head but I shall investigate.

My short story writing has gone off course this week... so I'm just going to keep fighting. It doesn't matter if I win this battle, just keep fighting to win the war or as little Dory in Disney’s Nemo said: ‘Just keep swimming, swimming, swimming. What do we ... When you want to swim you want to swim. ... You think you can do these things…



Keep swimming, just keep swimming and more on swimming laters.