Day by day by the Swan River and Wetlands.
New Moon on the horizon and it will be in Virgo.
Whether I walk with Lily, I dream too. Today, after more rain had fallen, and for a time it did not, as I walked I observed the strange wimsical clouds, their shapes as you can see dispersin and reforming. Birds hovered and sailed with the wind, smaller birds chasing the larger ones from their next. It was a barney day, a days as if mother nature took a break and let the remainder of us to just be. The impace of the clouds in the water as a weak sun shone down reflected these images.
Mr and Mrs Duck, bring their babies at dusk out on to the grass by the wetlands. I see them gobble up insects as father tall and regal watches. They do not go too far from the shore. They need to watch out for the Ravens.
All my writing is connected to the river, and I often think of myself as Ratty, who boated and lived by the river.
This river is ancient, and holds many secrets, so say the She Oaks, who mostly reside along its banks, and very close to the edge, so that their roots often splatter in the mud, as their lean out over the river, its limbs rests for darters and pelicans at night. I often feel I am observed but that is due to the fae, herabouts.
The Crone requires an audience. I will bring her in tomorrow.