Tuesday, June 27, 2023

Teapot, moth and smoke.

1. Tea from a large blue willow pattern pot.

2. We stop to look at a dead moth, luminous grey on the dark shaded leaf litter, weightless as a shadow on my hand.

3. The smell of campfire smoke in Bettany's hair. 

Invented recipe, gone to seed and co-working.

1. When I come down, she is making pancakes to an invented recipe. 2. I let the parsley go to seed. I regret the drooping bitter leaves that...