Stubble Fields and Smoke

by Lydia

Catching time to read and process some of the things I have saved over the last few mad, mad weeks. Months. Well, year, really.

I love this sentence from my mum’s September post, reflecting on childhood trips to Finningley airshow.

“Driving back between stubble fields and smoke, it felt like summertime was folding.”

September, What’s It Like Up There? by Susan Crow, 27th September 2023

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