Tuesday, April 27, 2010

Blackbird, orange socks and telling.

1. Blackbird not willing to leave his place on the fence as I pass. I look him right in the yellow-rimmed eye.

2. Small boy runs down a quiet street. Luminous orange socks.

3. No more secrets.

Dull, after the rain and prepping.

1. I slap the full water butt to enjoy the dull thump. 2. My herbs have doubled in size in the rain, which seems to have nourished them in a...