Friday Fictioneers

Walking on a summer day, the words of poets come to play. Probably the most repeated are William Shakespeare’s, “Shall I compare thee to a summer’s day”. I do not have his talent, but I do love the scenes of the season. This sky being piqued in the beautiful blue with clouds puffy and white floating here and there, as if just passing through to turn gray in a thunderstorm, also prevalent in summer. Seagulls streaking, looking for fish or scraps on the bridge, where you hear creaking underfoot as you walk the bleached planking. It’s summertime at the shore.

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7 August 2026