folk love . . .

There is *MAGIC* in the air . . . labyrinth gardens, fossils, tragic tales and accordions on every street corner.

The sky above Edinburgh agrees with the change and wears her most beautiful pink threads.

I can feel parts of me being stitched back together in a landscape embroidered like no other.

King Creosote & Jon Hopkins - John Taylor's Month Away

"I'd much rather be me . . ."

silver . . . .

The festival has started in all its magic . . .

This weekend will include lanterns on the lake, withered hand at queen's hall and screen bandita at the wonderful summerhall. Planning what frocks to wear and spending all my time outside with a latte and Charles Kovac's book on civilisation . . .

Tonight is a full moon and *I* feel full of joy beyond compare. Silver in my pockets that has spilled over from the night sky . . .