Tuesday, September 23, 2008

Point, prints and push.

1. At the first stroke, the sharp new point on my pencil pops and crumbles into a tiny constellation, black on white.

2. Dry morning. No-one in sight. Dew wet footprints on the path get fainter step by step.

3. One last push late at night to finish my day's proofreading.

Poached egg, acer and bramble.

1. Carefully opening my poached egg so the yolk runs on to the toast. 2. The acer tree -- lime green edged with crimson. 3. Bramble shoots, ...