a wonderful book, from a wonderful bookshop

i've been hooked since i read the heading of chapter one ... "never talk to strangers"

the image on the cover of bulgakov's novel is said to be graffiti that was photographed on the stairway to his old apartment

it doesn't give you a clue about the treasure trove within the covers

 

every painter in the world must be jealous at this time of year

 

no cycling after twisting my knee at work ... so a nice sunset at clapham junction after a thirteen hour day

 

home early ... computered, drank, dozed ... woke to find the daylight fading

 

portslade beach ... i had twenty minutes to spare before my customer opened her shop, so i took a walk here ...

... its fascinating how young gulls learn to fend for themselves in such barren looking spaces

? arenaria interpres ? ... whatever ! in it's search for food, this little bird overturns pebbles which probably weigh more than itself

after the high tides and storms, the upper shelf of the beach is littered with "stuff"

how many events and changes formed this pebble ?

 

i go cross-eyed trying to think how mud turns into rock and then becomes a pebble

 

it's anorak time on the bluebell line (1)

 

it's anorak time on the bluebell line (2)

 

it's anorak time on the bluebell line (3)

 

it's anorak time on the bluebell line (4)

 

it's anorak time on the bluebell line (5)

 

it's anorak time on the bluebell line (6)

giving the driver the green flag on the bluebell line

 

an original idea which never caught on ...

 

marketing exemplar at the co-op in edenbridge

 

ghillies bar beside the thames at putney

 

high tide on the thames at putney

 

it seems more like may than october on putney heath, next year's buds are swelling on the oak trees ...

 

... and some of the conker trees think it is spring already ...

and the mass of fresh nettles are stinging my ankles through my trousers

 

to the western docks at southampton ...

 

... through the steel jungle of the container port ...