Sunday, 11 March 2012

one hundred and thirty-five

It is spring. I spent the morning with a bunch of strangers at the British Library, peering at illuminated manuscripts, and the afternoon with Hannah in the park, peering at nesting herons.

This is the church is at the end of my street; I love the blues, purples, greens of the windows against those very red bricks (especially on days like today, when the sky was clear and light).