Tuesday, May 03, 2005

Fairies, whistle and hysterics.

1. It seemed still, but it couldn't have been because tiny dots of willow fluff were floating about. It catches the sun and looks like something from a fairy tale book.

2. As I walked round Monson Road in the fading light, I heard a shout from one of the flats above the shops. I look up, and see a man leaning out of a lighted window. 'Hallo gorgeous!' he says again. Do I know him? I can't actually see, so I overcome my maidenly qualms and ask -- it's Beltane after all. 'No,' he says, 'But I'd like you to.' I give him a cheery wave and hurry on to the pub. When I look back, he whistles.

3. Laughing at a theatrical drunkard until tears come.

Slow worm, peacock butterfly and striations.

1. A slow worm backs into his burrow, his mild resentful gaze holding ours. 2. Peacock butterfly -- Persian rug colours -- rests open in the...