A few weeks ago I spent a lot of time looking up in order to photograph chimneys, which I felt deserved attention. Recently I have been looking down at the pavement, where leaves and other detritus often, of their own accord, make interesting compositions. Although I crop the photographs, I do not move or adjust the fallen leaves. Sometime a leaf folded over or one beginning to disintegrate adds drama to the scene.
Reflections, even in familiar places, sometimes take you by surprise. In our house, there is an internal window between a half landing on the stairs to the basement, and a raised part of the basement, where there is a built in dresser. Opposite the window and next to the dresser, is another window giving on to what used, in the distant past, to be a coal hole, and is now a sort of winter garden - a small raised area protruding outside the house and enclosed by a glass ceiling. This morning as the sun comes in through the winter garden, I see there a strange green light - the sort of thing you find on an electronic appliance. But there is no such appliance there. It takes me a minute at least to work out that the green light is a reflection of morning sunlight off the rim of a jug on the sill of the stairs window, transferred to the glass of the winter garden window. An oddity relating to the time of day and the angle of the sun, which seems, then, and still does, now, to be a beautiful, fleeting thing, worthy of note.
As I walk past the entrance to Calverley Ground , two boys call after me, " Picasso! Picasso!" I remember that, with the onset of Autumn, I have taken out my beret Basque and today worn it for the first time since last winter. The association with the artist, does nothing to spoil the pleasure I get from the comfort and utility of this head gear, and, in fact adds to its attractions.