at home in the Bunker

My sister snapped some gems while she was here — here is us, through her lens.

Step into our bunker lair.

Where the light filters in soft.

And the cracks in the wall tell stories, if you tilt your head and listen.

And the garden is most amenable to afternoon friendlies.

Where one Foxy Lady scampers about. This wee lass toes the line between cuddly and capricious, and she’s meltingly soft!

Come back real soon, we like you.