Up the road, afternoon - tell me how does anyone know...

We find a field of mixed oats, barley and wheat, with violet-flowered peas and some other smaller purple-flowered legume.  We munch some  peas, and I fill my pockets.  Risotto tonight!

Down the road, early evening (Sunday)

The parched fence posts stand up like pale ends of bone.  A buzzard sweeps low over the beet field and lifts up onto one, where it watches for a minute.

Down the road, early evening

The neighbourhood partridge couple, whom I disturbed at the bottom of our garden the other day, patter silently off across our neighbours'  flowerbed, the same colour as the dusty earth.

Plage sauvage, near Erquy, out with Princeling

The colours vivid, intense, sea blue-green-brown, rocks pink-blue-green, shells encrusted upon shells, water rushing.  Small boy and dog scramble and paddle and chase. Small boy and I scream like seagulls.

Up the road, afternoon

The Russian woman is perched on her windowsill in the sun, holding a plate with a very few, glossy-dark, early season cherries.  We greet each other for the first time.

The old railtrack, morning.

Lighting makes woods quietly dramatic places: this spray of leaves here is spotlit for effect, that canopy provides slides, filters and overlays of varying intensities; here is shadow, there clarity.

Up the road, afternoon. I know, it's nature.

Once a cuckoo's call here was rare and exciting.  This one is loud and continuous, morning till night. I fear our lovely new warbler population will be tormented and depleted.