East Foreshore
Yesterday was a cocoon day but today is definitely not. Today, all you can do is sit back and react.
East Foreshore
Whatever you might hear me say, or hear me think, this is a charmed life.
Oh, and spot the blackbird.
East Foreshore
After all that drama last night, it’s a shock to find a cocoon day. Good for introspection, I suppose.
Hewitt Road
It rained and it thundered and it rained some more. It poured all night long. Like it was never going to stop.
And then, when the morning finally came, the sun crept along with it and all the hard work that the rain had put in was carefully illuminated for all to see.
Hewitt Road
And then a day like today you get nothing. No shadow, no movement, no wind against your face. No sounds, really.
You have to do all the work yourself.
And I quite like these cocoon days.
East Foreshore
Everything has shifted. It’s already darker much earlier and the white horses have set in.
We’ll battle down the hatches.
Hewitt Road
The more I photograph this scene the more that’s exactly what it becomes: act 2, scene 3… optimism fills the household as the sun pushes across the neighbouring roof tops, finding its way into dark fungal corners; act 1, scene 2… Mary’s dream sequence – a dramatic but unstable sky dominates, while a rainbow hangs, delicate but consistent. And so on.
I’d like to see this play. Or maybe then again…
Hewitt Road
Ah, this feels like a familiar London again: rain, peeling paint and old net curtains. I’d say these windows are around 4m max away from us.
Oh yes and a nice big grease extract chimney from the Thai restaurant, out the back of Agnes’ new place last night. London’s rear window Victorian / C21st hybrid vernacular is its own animal.
Benham’s Lane
This being open to things thing is quite extraordinary. I’m liking the nu-u, PC. I’m not feeling it stopping.
Meanwhile, you could be forgiven for thinking life along the river never changes. But actually, on closer inspection, some of the strong signs of the future are right here as we prepare for ‘that week’, Henley Royal Regatta, year 175. Advanced technologies, and youth for starters, but coupled with international Olympic athleticism … doesn’t sound that sleepy. I can’t help thinking that just a week of that a year must have quite an effect.
For a change, I’m hearing American accents – rowers, not tourists – in an English setting, and feeling an allegiance. Careful, Culley.
Hewitt Road
Touch of the sub tropical in Haringey today.
Yuccas have no problems in these protected strip farm gardens.
Green Lanes
A different sunrise feel today.
Interesting… but I’ll be staying with the Bolt on this one.
East Foreshore
In late June this is the craziest window. I watch the sun set through it on the left and see it rise again just a few hours later a bit further to the right, without even shifting my position.
The birds get up at 3 o’clock but then I’m not a bird. More sleep please.
Hewitt Road
Sounds silly but this really only could be London. Ok, maybe England, but I think honestly only London. Coming from southern California, one should really be a ‘perfect weather’ expert. So when the sun clicks in here, at such a northerly latitude, and with that incredible fresh breeze sliding underneath, I don’t think it gets any better. So that’s why we spend all our time waiting for it, and obsessing over it – this rare, rich delicacy.
It’s good to be back. In many ways.
WHEN I WOKE UP 