Flute, learning is enjoyably hard. Technique frustratingly slow to acquire. Bach should be sublime.
Dalkeith, friends, ease - except the hard knobbly bits of wood chip stuck into my flesh- and sunshine. A startlingly leaf glow green walk through trees during which I realised I was spending these precious moments planning my movements for the day not Being. So I beed. And the birds suddenly started singing and the trees soared around me. Magic.
What did we talk about? Babies, Art swap,