Raise your glasses to winter

But for the sound of two crying seagulls, the air is still. There is a coldness to it, a coldness that signifies something is coming. Winter.

The gulls career around, circling above The Enchanted Village, far from their coastal home. A car trundles through and then there is quiet again. The shop blinds are down and the pub curtains are drawn. No-one is home.

White vapour trails, like the tails of mechanised comets, criss cross in the crisp, blue sky to make the sign of a kiss. There is hope on the horizon.

The Village Hall Arms is about to open for business.

That's about it.

Love Maddie x