Friday, August 08, 2008

Fruit, flock and figs.

1. A red-gold Victoria plum. The skin is the colour of a faded bruise, and the flesh reminds me of teatime sunlight.

2. Passing a church we catch the moment when shining butterflies of confetti hang in the air.

3. Cutting up a fat ball of mozzarella and eating it with warm figs.

Rind, mustering and moon.

1. The crack of pumpkin rind as I bring the knife round the lantern lid. 2. Now they've been pointed out to me, everywhere I go, I see t...