Thursday, January 31

A red tractor follows the line of the horizon. Glossy crows perch on stubbled corn. Patches of water help the sky to bear its brilliant blue. Begin again.

Wednesday, January 30

a moment after driving through the white, the rosy smell of bonfires fills the car

Tuesday, January 29

Sit the vase on the window-sill; light pours into the tulip-blooms, fills their yellow vessels up to the brim.

Monday, January 28

At the lights the moustached man in the next car dances his fingers on the steering wheel. His swoops and taps match the music pulsing from my radio. Amber, green. I pull in, park. On stepping out, a bird greets me with a burst of clear-throated song.

Sunday, January 27

across the water, behind the rippling bulrushes, three mechanical birds stand with their booms all pointing to the left

Saturday, January 26

sweet jasmine

a whiff of jasmine tickles the room; the first five-petalled star has opened up

Friday, January 25

clump to clump

twice on the drive to work I see whole groups of flighty deer
springing across the open grass from clump to clump of trees

Thursday, January 24

Wednesday, January 23

Tuesday, January 22

Monday, January 21

city river

a neglected man crouches near the edge in the mud, throws gobs of torn off bread for the greasy swans

Sunday, January 20

planting polyanthus

in between the showers I rush outside and push their roots into the ground
their yellow circle centres hold the royal purple petals proud

Friday, January 18


today clearing cobwebs from the ceiling makes me happy

Thursday, January 17

not birds

what to do with the growing rats who burrow into the earth under the feeder?

Wednesday, January 16

suddenly there

suddenly there as if they've always been there, delicately tipped blunt snouts in the borders waiting to be shocking red tulips

Tuesday, January 15


a sea of dead ferns laps at the trees, the colour of warm brown mud.
sunlight hits a fallen trunk growing bright lime green moss.

Monday, January 14

a giant hand

the top of the bare-twigged tree is the palest orange, as if a giant hand had used it as a makeshift paintbrush

Sunday, January 13

Leeds Castle

scarlet dogwood
framed by
bright green grass
framed by
stone castle walls
framed by
a quiet january sky

Saturday, January 12


My cats were having a bath. I left the room for a moment and when I came back their bodies were floating underneath the water, stretched out as if on a warm rug. I had to drag their heavy weight out by their tails and tried to shake the water from their bodies, knowing all the time it was too late.

Friday, January 11


a spaceship crash-lands in our kitchen, sits happily humming... our new huge silver fridge

Thursday, January 10


She's wearing an oversized mac and one slinged arm is zipped inside. Her wiry black hair is tied back in a loose pony-tail. Two cheap golden hoops are threaded through the holes in her ears. Her scrunched up forehead is riddled with worry-worms.

Wednesday, January 9

blue-bell-blue hyacinth

the gorgeous hyacinth stink sidles up when I'm washing the dishes and nudges me hard

Tuesday, January 8


a mark of honour,
but dribble on
your skirt is
still dribble

Monday, January 7

at B&Q

the old gentleman Sikh they've hired to stand at the exit and say 'goodbye' sends me on my way with warm feelings rising like steam from my shoulders

Sunday, January 6

Saturday, January 5

red kettle

ten minutes after the kettle boils, tongues of steam still rise from the shining spout

Thursday, January 3


rich creamy mushroom-coloured sauce with fragrant mounds of basmati as pale as bone

Wednesday, January 2

garden work

cutting into the dead woody centre of the rosemary bush releases puffs of lavender into the freezing air

Tuesday, January 1