Rocket flower. I sometimes scatter these over a salad to accompany the leaves but I had not noticed how interesting are the petals with their elegant veins. I think to myself that rocket is a homograph, a word spelt like another but of a different origin. Thank you Clare Grant for a list of homographs the other day in Three Beautiful Things.
From the street I look up at a window in which, between a pale coloured, drawn curtain and the glass, is suspended a pair of jeans on a hanger. It is framed as though it is a picture.
In the quiet garden across the road, through which I walk to my vegetable garden, you can hear the breeze moving leaves even on a still day. The leaves seem to say "hush, hush."
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