Trio of blue

Blue
Here is a shell for you
Inside you'll hear a sigh
A foggy lullaby
There is your song from me

The birds are singing as consciousness seeps in. Sun shines through the trees.

The haar closes in as I pass Leadburn and stays with me across the Firth of Forth. In Kinghorn the sun is shining again.

We head out for lunch, find nothing suitable, pick up some supplies, and eat at the flat. Then it’s down to the beach, breeze-free, sandy, in full afternoon heat. Claire brings her swimming costume, but doesn’t use it. I paddle - it’s freezing.