Monday, March 11, 2024

Pinks, robin and not dead.

1. Waiting for me at breakfast is a pot of pinks, just perfect for the front garden.

2. Later in the day, Alec produces a card he has made for me -- a drawing of a robin in oil pastels, made from a photo he took on a day out we had together in the autumn.

3. I go to take out a dead fern to make room for my pinks, but find close to the soil, tight furled fronds, waiting for next week, or the week after.

Breakfast, drift and pour.

1. I start to say no because I've already eaten breakfast and I don't want the work of cooking French toast for everyone else -- but...