Monday, May 26, 2008

The rain has come, one worker and pulp.

1. There is smell of wet woods and growing things, as if the Common has drunk deeply in the rain and has let out a fragrant sigh into the sunshine.

2. At the edge of the cricket ground, on a Sunday when everyone else is playing or walking or simply looking on, a serious teenage girl sits studying from a language book.

3. Putting on a pulpy podcast and curling up on the sofa to thrill at the adventures of Doc Savage and the crimson-fingered man who is trying to kill him.

Steady rain, canon and heat.

1. We wake to the sound of steady rain after a few hot, dry days. 2. I tumble down a bit of a rabbit hole after a social media discussion of...