creativeI had some food colouring with me too, but there were too many people around, so I bottled out of colouring the puddles. Soon - there's rarely a puddle shortage in Manchester.
A poem came into my head at the weekend, which I've shared on BookCrossing.
These trees
Naked against a grey sky.
'How desolate', you say?
Look closer:
Each branchlet swells
Budding
Pregnant with Spring.
