Monday, February 04, 2008

Chooks, leaf and lost bridge.

1. Barnevelder chickens scratching in a pen. A mud path is worn round the edge, where Gwen the sheepdog has been rounding them up. I ask Bill the warden about the chickens, and he says: 'They're lovely when the light hits them.' I look again and spot the peacock irridescence, and that each feather has a brown chevron.


2. An ivy leaf burnt to a charred flake has an electric blue sheen.


3. Among the trees covering the spoil heaps at Ticknall lime yards is an old bridge that once carried the tramway. Through the arch, I can see the turquoise water of a flooded quarry.

Cheese holes, eerie and back at the table.

1. My nephew likes cheese, but only the holes, which I carefully snip out with kitchen scissors. 2. I feel a little bit sorry for the comput...