Thursday, 22 November 2012


Again today, in defiance of the forecast and just before sunset, here it is: the bar of pale, unexpected light slanting through the window and across my desk.

Monday, 19 November 2012

Black and white

In the park, two spaniels play-fighting: one, headbutted, keels lightly over, roly-poly black and white down the leaf-strewn grassy slope.

Sunday, 18 November 2012


Sleek young people lounge in the all-glass lobby of a smart office building - amphibians about to flick their webbed feet and float to the surface.

Thursday, 15 November 2012


The air is white with fog - the small fog of my breath streams out to meet it.

Wednesday, 14 November 2012


Warm sunshine - a freak of our degraded climate, unexpected, sweet.

Sunday, 11 November 2012


Looking up at the sun streaming through a complex pattern of red and yellow and evergreeen leaves is like looking at a huge Tiffany window.

Saturday, 10 November 2012


In the twilight puddles: muted, romanticised images of the workaday facades.

Friday, 9 November 2012


Outside, the air has turned soft and the sky baby-blue - any change in the brief light at this time of year is unexpected and shocking.

Thursday, 8 November 2012


The cold is hard and heavy, like a rock suspended, swinging in the empty air.

Wednesday, 7 November 2012


Street-lamps glare against the flat, dense surface of the night sky - like brassy buttons on black velvet.

Tuesday, 6 November 2012


Late morning, and the sun already so low it dazzles - this brief inverted pool of turquoise sky.

Monday, 5 November 2012


Through the cold air, a penetrating, rasping, vibrating sound - is it a neighbour immoderately blowing his nose, or, from farther off, the brief blast of a power tool?

Sunday, 4 November 2012


The seamless hissing of rain, coating and streaming from every surface - how does it keep this up without a breath?

Saturday, 3 November 2012


Lime-flower tea: diluted essence of green; like a subtle distillation of leaves and grass - you wonder if it's really safe to drink.

Friday, 2 November 2012


Strings of premature white Christmas lights hang like frozen rain: a sparkly backdrop to the white coiffure of the elegant old woman at the window table.

Thursday, 1 November 2012


Sun on water: flickering sepia reflections in the surface of a muddy puddle resolve into the outline of a tall, nearly bare tree.

For Mindful Writing Day, and resolving to resume daily posting here, maybe try prose again.