Strange how sometimes you know exactly the image that will stay with you afterwards. And I did know, by the closed gate of a Catholic church with the breezy wind running up and down our ankles and the shadows of the trees falling across your face and the neat bunch of holy bibles stacked by the entrance. Many things will go. This never will.
Monday 7 August 2017
travelling notes (xxxiii)
Strange how sometimes you know exactly the image that will stay with you afterwards. And I did know, by the closed gate of a Catholic church with the breezy wind running up and down our ankles and the shadows of the trees falling across your face and the neat bunch of holy bibles stacked by the entrance. Many things will go. This never will.
