Skyberries and Voidmelons or Voidberries and Skymelons

Last night, I dreamt I was rubbing out a drawing, that I had drawn.

There were also drawings of seahorses next to tall buildings. I did not draw those though.

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On Friday, the clouds were very pretty and I could not take my eyes off the sky again.

The sky had turned grey by lunchtime though and as I wandered through the meadow, I felt sad that the butterflies, ladybirds, grasshoppers and hogweed bonking beetles have all gone now. I did notice the birds more than I usually do though, and listened to birds singing, saw a jay, and then watched a woodpecker pecking wood. I need these kind of moments.

My to-do list for the weekend included:
1. Jump in a fountain.
2. Dance amongst brick dust.
3. Look for zig-zags.
4. Whisper secrets to streetlamps.

I only managed a few of those, but I also marvelled at the vivid green of the sand lizard; ate turkish delight ice-cream in the village where Alice is buried; shook ladybirds out of my hair; laid amongst long grass and wild flowers, while ‎I took photos of clouds, only to find gevurah had laced my shoes with buttercups and daisies while I wasn't looking; noticed a heron glaring, perched in the corner, almost like a ghost; ate wild strawberries from the roadside; felt delighted at the sight of snakes and toads; retreated from the daze that being unwell and watching daytime TV provided.