Wednesday, 25 January 2012

The golden Buddha glows. Outside the occasional car rushes past.

Tuesday, 24 January 2012

The grid like lights of the petrol-station forecourt. Strips of neon and fluorescence. The scent of chemicals. 

Monday, 23 January 2012

In Argos, I apologise for not knowing where to go. The sales assistant runs through her spiel, they can protect my new toaster for three years...

Sunday, 22 January 2012

We are assaulted by bright plastic curves and waves of sound from the afternoon shoppers.

Saturday, 21 January 2012

In the pool of light from the door of the bar, they cup their hands around cigarettes, trying to light them in the wind.

Thursday, 19 January 2012

A crescent of spilt dark coffee on a white saucer, the crumbled edge of a digestive biscuit, and the clink of a tea-spoon meeting the edge of the cup.

Wednesday, 18 January 2012

On wind stripped branches, a single red-brown oak leaf, curled up like a robin's breast. 

Tuesday, 17 January 2012

Sunday, 15 January 2012

6:30 am. The double frost slashes and cracks over the windscreen.

Saturday, 14 January 2012

Friday, 13 January 2012

Friday 13th

Mathias Svensson smiles over his chinrest, then grins, breaking out into a hot jazz solo in the midst of "Swing 42"

Thursday, 12 January 2012

Dusk. A plane scores a salmon pink line across a puce and lavender sky.
Three clouds stacked up on top of each other. Hints of grey in their bodies. Glowing white edges and broken wisps of light. They drift across the sky, crossing puffed up contrails. The sky is the palest of blues.

Wednesday, 11 January 2012

Dawn comes as a few strokes of paint - shade of grey, an edge of pink, orange. 

Tuesday, 10 January 2012

Monday, 9 January 2012

Ways of seeing trees 3

Is a laurel a tree? This one has been cut into a square. Its round fat leaves spill out of the box’s straight edges.

Sunday, 8 January 2012

At night, clusters of torch red berries on the rowan tree shine like glass baubles in the light from the window. 

Saturday, 7 January 2012

In the grey winter light
everything loses its depth
only the wet things are interesting
drops of water on rosebay willow herb
pools of silver rain in the potholed road
the damp earth we tear up with the wheelchair’s tires

Thursday, 5 January 2012

Winter sun. The shadows of naked hawthorn trees stretch across a freshly ploughed field. A single crow hunts for worms.

Wednesday, 4 January 2012

Ways of seeing trees 2

Middle distance. A sea-grey conifer. A globe of upward reaching branches. The wind disturbs them.

Tuesday, 3 January 2012

A flash of white fur just beyond the fence. And again. And again.

Ways of seeing trees

The trees on the ridge are barely moving. Ink black and bare - I could believe they were drawn there.

Monday, 2 January 2012

Late afternoon

Late afternoon. 15 miles away rain curls down from timberwolf grey clouds. Underneath the sky is golden.

Sunday, 1 January 2012

Driving home, I saw a pheasant coloured horse's mane, behind a dark green hedge.