Prompt: Write down the first words that comes to mind when we say . . . home. . . soil. . . rain.
Home finally means something to me again. Sometimes my mind wanders back to Roslin Close and my childhood home, I see my family, as we were, younger and looked after, protected. I might be doing something as mundane as washing up and my head will take me back in time.
I have been nomadic, rootless, I enjoyed the freedom of movement. There comes a time for settling and when that time is right, you know. Our together house is definitely home, I love coming back here. We are itching to decorate the face of it, but the spirit is already shining.
Soil in the allotment under all the wild, overgrown grass and weeds we have to go and get rid of. The soil used to be stony but over the years with planting and replanting the land has been worked and the soil is healthier.
Rain has fallen in our Country for months, it finally stopped a few weeks ago, we enjoyed the sun shine and dry for a few days and now Winter has returned. The flood waters have finally dropped.