Golden

For "the miraculous embrace of love holding us."  Sunday morning's golden mist had me out before I'd even had a cup of tea.  

Again, perspective on the development changes.  The layers of hardcore stand much higher than before and the first wooden framing for the seawall is in place - this is the far end of it; a rather ominous 'Spill Emergency Kit' box has been constructed (ELF 'n safety, presumably).  I'm guessing vast quantities of concrete will be poured soon.  

It was doubly hazardous stumbling around half-asleep in wellies.  I'm glad I did, it's all grey murk out there now and I'm set for the day, Blip done.  A rare feeling.

Edit:  I am so sad to hear that Doris Lessing died this morning.  Her writing and example had a profound influence on my life, The Four-Gated City, which I read at twenty-six, is by far the best novel I have ever read.  It's the last in the series Children of Violence, I was in floods of tears when I finished it.  A little nod to Doris through fresh tears now.  I feel like I have lost a good friend; had the same feeling when Roger Deakin died, cried for a week.