Sunday 16th December


A strong desire to pull on the walking boots & hit the road. The light is low
& twisting. fields succulent, scattered puddles, the marks of animals.
Hawthorn, my favourite scribble & vibrant rose hips dangling between
delicately vicious thorns. Green lanes are the alleys of the land outside of
the city & I’ve got the urge to walk them, breath damp clean air & see the
world from behind it’s facades.