Window view. 30 mins. 3B and HB pencils. A watery day with windows looking blankly back at me between drooping branches, over spongy gardens. Roof-tiles, felt and lead reflected the sky. Shadows dripped. A sudden change from the wok-like heat of Wednesday when I sat in the shade on the allotment eating sweet broad beans straight from their pods. The air breathes again and the ground is grateful. Today I sorted through my mother's papers - things she read and wrote and then kept safe. I hope she went back to them on rainy days, but I suspect that mostly they sat in files and boxes on a shelf, like reassuring past milestones of meaning. She was always looking forwards. |