Friday, May 05, 2006

Fifty springs are little room, augury and innocence.

1. Walking down a footpath while the white petals of wild cherry blossom fell all around me.

2. The swallows are back and I heard my first cuckoo. Summer is coming in.

3. A child's mountain bike lying on its side, right in the way, outside the newsagents.

Stored, share and collecting.

1. When I turn out a pot, I find fat worms writhing in the soil, and a bright gold centipede, and a handful of bulbs waiting for next year. ...