Imagine the sun rising, an bright, early dawn, in the garden at Eden. Adam rolling to his right side to lean on one elbow, the back of the hand on his other arm coming up to rub the sleepy dust from his eyes, blinking towards the divine yellow light. In a moment, he jumps up.
“Eve, where are my clean fig leaves?”
Eve, already in the midst of making the first brew, calls back,
“In the airing cupboard, dear!”
It’s another big day ahead, another commission of naming things.
Continue reading at The Moon is Rising
Sue Vincent's Daily Echo 