The days are short and so is this

Dear Sit Spotters,

we are closing in on the shortest day of the year. I’m quiet. I’ve tried to write to you about this or that. This evening for example, a mob of yellow-tailed black cockatoos loped across the valley, the breath of their passage, their familiar eerie cry, raised a blush, a tattoo on my skin. Or this morning when I tipped Frank’s hay int…