Three Beautiful Things

1. I find myself deep in a book that makes me laugh and forget where I am. 2. A little hand sanitiser quickly lifts the biro ink stain. 3. Among his photos of the weekend -- the play of lake water light on a swan's breast feathers.

1. The taxi driver and I have been talking on the five-minute journey. As I get out, he thanks me for my story of rocking and jolting over fields in my grandfather's ancient green Land Rover that always smelled of petrol because of a leak in the tank. 2. I catch the gaze of a baby in a backpack and we both smile. 3. The sky is clear and dark enough that I can view the zodiacal light. I'd never heard of this before, but apparently around the equinox, light from the sun below the horizon reflects off space dust to brighten the sky just after dusk and before dawn.

 Today, Satya Robyn has published her interview with me over on Substack.  Do take a look. 1. My cake comes with a dish of whipped cream, just like in the 1980s. 2. Degree by degree, the sunset has moved round until I can't see it from my window -- but I can see it warming the building at the end of the Pantiles. 3. I deliver an edit and pretty much float downstairs when supper is called.

1. Through the trellis between the back yards, a jigsaw piece of our neighbour's face. 2. Two bees looping about the garden glinting in the sun. 3. There she is up ahead on her way home. She will be mortified if I call out in the High Street, though.

1. A yellow dog with a plumed tail runs joyfully across the lower cricket field. Of course it's a retriever. 2. We are discussing a window box plan. He spends a long time describing a particular kind of flower. We have to use an image search to find them. 'Those ones. I don't like them.' 3. We are very excited -- but very quietly because it's late at night -- to see the viscount married.

1. I am allowed a look in the back of his sketchbook. 2. In response to a rumour, I divert our walk, and there is indeed frogspawn in Fir Tree Pond. 3. I turn and look back. There is a hazel tree putting out tiny leaves in a tentative way, as if not quite sure how they will be received.