Hot Air
The hospice is located just right of those houses I have always loved that first blast of hot, dry air you get when exiting an aircraft in a Mediterranean airport. That faint blast of hot tarmac, sunshine and aircraft fumes Mixed together with waft of bougainvillaea, beaches and distant sewerage. Conversely I also love leaving work and feeling the cool evening Welsh air on my face as I stand for a moment in the hospice car park Air, cooled by the Irish Sea blowing over and down the Orme The grand peninsula overlooking Llandudno An island of limestone dotted with the goats made famous from lockdown. Whereas the Spanish and Greek blast almost takes your breath away. The Welsh breeze rejuvenates and cools. Tonight, I needed a bit more Welsh breeze. I needed to blow the day away. I took the girls down the lane when I got home And in the dark, with common pipistrelle bats flashing under the fairly lights at Trendy Carol’s, we stand at Graha...
