It’s a Good Friday

Once upon a time, some dogs died. The young man left to take care of his master’s house locked the gate and disappeared. But he left the dogs.

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Seasons of Time

It is raining again and I am thinking of seasons. And change. A month ago, thanks to the North Eastern Trade Winds blowing across the vast Sahara Desert (can’t resist a bit of Geography) we were roasting under the dry and dusty spell of the Harmattan winds.