cool morning air, loch like glass, little white yachts glide gorgeous; scrambling in the trees as I walk by, some drama in the lives of pine marten or squirrel a snooze on the sofa, sheer joy of quiet and no lash, no ugly looks, no knife in the back no non-comprehending persons laying-down ignorant edicts from above - a day of grace and thankfulness and the body burst later proved I still can: energy, muscles working in the dream of red Scots pinenext poem