Monday, 29 February 2016

Extra! Extra!



What to do with our extra day.


Notice it!


Reach out for it!


Go out into it!


Walk all day


in Kew Gardens!


Magnolias!


Crocuses!


Vistas!


River!


Minka!


Bamboos!


New Birch leaves!


Catkins!



Palm house!


Magnolias!


Gravel gardens!



Pines!



Narcissi!


Geese!




Ducks!

Once in four years I allow myself a superabundance of exclamation marks.
Literary leaping.



Sunday, 28 February 2016

Waking too early


Waking at 5.30 Frances took her camera to the deck to photograph
 daybreak on a tiny Canadian West Coast island.
I stayed in bed, listened to 
Something Understood's A Walk in the Woods,
and caught this hauntingly beautiful piece
as I drifted back to sleep.



Revisiting other dawns:














 If you wake early, what do you do?

Thursday, 25 February 2016

Beauty underfoot


I was so accustomed to the sight of black and white splodges on London's pavements
that if I thought about it at all, I presumed it was  part of the stone,
perhaps a mouldy stain, lichen or a natural imperfection.
I was genuinely shocked to discover it was all flattened chewing gum.
 Discarded gum costs £1.50 per piece, to remove -
a staggering £60 million per year.

Here is one solution spotted on the Millennium Bridge in London yesterday.
The Chewing Gum Man has been painting miniature artworks directly 
onto the gum for twelve years,
'transforming it into something beautiful that people would like to look at'.












At the other end of the bridge is the Tate Modern where
I met old friends to see the Alexander Calder exhibition.
More playfulness and beauty,
but not free.
Without concessions - £18
or 12 pieces of removed chewing gum.


Friday, 12 February 2016

VBP


Saying you're pleased with your haircut 
despite the deep inner sadness it's causing you.

Translating 'carpe diem' as 'treat yourself 
to a slightly more expensive loaf of bread'.

The childish urge to start entering your pin number 
before being prompted by the cashier.

Feeling embarrassed to have nicer food than the person 
behind you at the checkout.

Saying 'left' and 'right' at random,
rather than admit to the optician 
that all the lenses seem identical.

Looking at having your hands surgically removed
after waving at someone who was waving at someone behind you.

Subtly glancing at the luggage rack
to indicate to the person next to you that 
you're going to have to get up soon.

Standing ready to exit the train
a full ten minutes before your station.

Repeatedly pressing the door button on the train
before it's illuminated, to assure your fellow commuters
you have the situation in hand.

Feeling very uneasy while honouring a request for three sugars.

The moment of split second panic wondering if the automatic door
is going to open or not.

Expertly turning a trip into a gentle jog.

Locking yourself in the wardrobe
until you're certain that the window cleaner
has finished and left.

A few thoughts for you from
Very British Problems by Rob Temple
that had me snorkelling in recognition.

Monday, 8 February 2016

Plum blossom placeholder



I'm glad I took this while I could.
I doubt it will survive Storm Imogen intact.
I write that with gritted teeth.
I deplore the personalisation of weather
even if it is even-handed about the gender now.

Tuesday, 2 February 2016

Beach aliens and other matters




Take more pictures.
Write everything down.
Keep a journal.
Back up your files.
There are no secrets.
If the shoe doesn't fit in the shoe store
it's never going to fit.
The empty nest is underrated.

What Norah Ephron wished she had known.



(It has) no redeeming artistic merit.

What Shostakovich thought of his own composition.