Tuesday 30 June 2009

Mount Ephraim, anticlockwise. 8pm.

The attention of a low sun swaggering up Molyneux Park Road has lit up a swathe of slender bleached blonde grass heads. They stand straight, proud, brittle and not afraid.

Monday 29 June 2009

Rock Cottage, clockwise. 8pm.

The air vibrates with the scent of lime blossom. You'd think a saint had (moments before) been taken up to heaven, or that a miracle had occurred in the bracken.

Sunday 28 June 2009

Mount Ephraim, anticlockwise. 6.30pm.

He (in the turquoise shirt) has come out to eat a Mars. He (in the black shirt) has come to smoke a cigarette and swig from a bottle of water.

Saturday 27 June 2009

Mount Ephraim, anticlockwise. 6pm.

Cumulo nimbus are bearing down on the back of Mount Ephraim. These top-heavy mountains have shrunk me to the significance of an ant with a promise of torrential rain.

Thursday 25 June 2009

Mount Ephraim, anticlockwise. 2pm.

The groundsman dances his tractor mower in quick circles. His colleague spreads himself all along a bench in the oak tree shade, a strimmer catching its breath at his feet.