Perfection....

I drove up the A9 today. Going home. God. The Nairn Book and Arts Festival.
And I've just heard the beautiful and consistantly wonderfull Esther Woolfson
talking about Crows (and other birds).
Afterwards, drunk on Nairnshire and her voice,
I went down to the East beach and the Links
where they were still playing wildly enthusiastic cricket.
But wouldn't it be magically possible (even after fifty years)
(in Nairnshire) to be the same team?