After late shifts, or generally too little sleep, the world loses focus.

...there is a little muntjac deer in this photo.

A bee in the heart of the sunflower.

What a cliche.

This oak stands about halfway around my favourite run.

This pigeon watched me type for twenty minutes before flying above my head.

Real dreaming. I dreamed that work had been worse than it was. That my script had to be completely and utterly rewritten because it was...

The clock is home time two nights/mornings in a row.

The least bedraggled crow feather I have found.

There seem to be a fair few berries this year, which must be good for the creatures. But it has not been a great summer. Yes, there have...

...with the wheat gone, there's no place left to go.

Experiencing nothingness

How I long for feathered friends.

As I drove home the other night, half of a huge yellow moon.

So, this is what I see when I look through the window.

Methinks I wrote about L.A. Paul's idea of transformative experiences in July or August of last year. Basically, she reckons that some...

This is a rosette of willow leaves.

Jay. Jay.

It could be a baby dragonfly.

Ah-ha!