She lies in a hammock of her own construction and dozes away the day. The sun arcs, the tides shift, and the world turns on its axis. In all this motion she finds a pleasant rocking, not quite still, but not swaying either. No music in her ear, nor book before her eyes. No thoughts in her head. Just the birdsong, the wash of the sea, and the rustle of leaves. Peace, at last.
Paddy Dobson
14th March 2021