Wednesday 14th January



He was waiting for me as usual, up by the bins, watching me
for signs as I dragged through the mud, head down,
caught up in my stuff.  He was sheltering from the wind in the
leigh of a tree, invisible against the black trunk, black-blue dark
gathering to release it’s light. He was bear foot as usual, muddy
from crossing the fields, gauging the vibe from the way I walked,
adjusted his approach by increments. I pulled the bins into place
with the same balletic arc that I always use, the same move I make
with a brush, a pencil, a piece of charcoal.’The Bins’is as much
‘art’ to me as making paintings & just as satisfying. Out here the
galleries have no walls no complications & the light…………..
the light is alive.
It fell silent, no hissing rubber, no black top kiss, even the trees
stopped whispering. We gave our customary nod, his eyes twinkled &
that always does me, can’t stop the mouth from curling.
I was up for it & he knew.
Inclining his head East towards the light, he turned, leaving a
space at his side for me to fill as I relaxed, we stood together
watching the sun rise, speaking without saying a thing.


One thought on “Wednesday 14th January

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