I found this musing written on the last page of a book I had carried along with me to London.
07th July, 2015
Primrose Hill, London
It's one of those days. Sun is skidding in and out of the clouds, the wind is singing a song with the trees in chorus - swaying, swinging, dancing to the mellifluous music. It's like an orchestra. The notes are high, pitch is a sweet melancholy, and the aloofness is warm company.
P.S. it must have been some day and I must have been in some mood!
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