This is me in my garden in Brighton in the snow last year, and it was a strange time because we hardly ever get snow, so its like remembering Scottish weather. And then remembering Scottish weather is like remembering life itself. Nostalgia cuts in and I become dewy eyed for it all. Mind you it doesn't last long but its nice to dip into it just for a wee while. But this is just a short blog for I have had a troubled night and I am driving to Winchester, so I leave with Pablo Neruda, from The Book of Questions, what I love about reading Neruda is he manages to say or ask the obvious in his poetry, which is a joy, but this (below) is a very Scottish question (in my mind - anyway):
Si todos los rios son dulces
de donde saca sal el mar?
If all rivers are sweet
where does the sea get its salt?
de donde saca sal el mar?
If all rivers are sweet
where does the sea get its salt?
