Brick

The railroad bridge, a warm orange brick, was painted over in a less appealing pink some years ago. Who cares? yet it’s funny how nice it is to see the original shade coming through again.
I had a phone visit with Josiane today, including some Christmas poems. Also a catch up with Funke, who has been in Nigeria.
D is zooming with Simon; no doubt they will be discussing travel to France, where S usually goes regularly.
We reminisced this afternoon. But the past is the past … it’s good to look forward.