Since I have stopped photographing cast-off packaging and faded labels emerging from puddles, I have found wayside seductions, rather more attractive to my camera.
Because the first stage of my daily posting routine is a draft, having completed the draft, I sometimes forget to publish it. Yesterday, I realize that I have forgotten to publish the previous day's, and find that I have two drafts to post. An idle employee would doubtless have saved one for today, but I am self-employed in this venture. There is no one's time to steal except my own, and so, perhaps foolishly, I publish two posts at the same time.
As I walk down Mount Sion, the steep slope of The Common faces me glowing in the afternoon sun. The buildings of Mount Sion frame it as it rises above the narrow valley, where the London Road steers its way northwards, following the curve of The common. Round the banks of trees ahead of me hangs a green haze of buds, a series of halos; while, in the distance, on the ridge at the crest of The Common, a few bare trees, not yet visibly in bud, spread out against the sky, their branches mimicking the veins of the leaves, which are yet to appear. It is a lot to take in.
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