Words on a postcard, words on an envelope. Words handwritten in between words printed. Words coming through mailbox, in magazines, newspapers. Words on the radio. So many words put together, always a new meaning. Words through a phone, making me laughing.
For the words handwritten, I made a box to keep them safe. Knitting while layers of paint are drying. Small birds of summer forests have moved to the town and are now seeking for winter food in balconies and yards. No breadcrumbs, but maybe a pocketful of seeds secretly to the lilacs bushes of the yard (which is strongly forbidden).
Warm Wednesday thoughts,
Anna Emilia