April's last sunset

something to hold on to, something to return to

‘I’ll come with you’ said my eldest son as I dropped a pair of scissors into my basket. The day had slipped away from me and there was little daylight left now to carry out my annual ritual — a walk around the town on the last day of April, gathering flowers to make posies in celebration of the May.

I’d already planned the route in my head. ‘We’ll go up …