celestial fireworks

.... a suitably fiery end to November 5 followed by mass canine hysteria, mum hiding behind the sofa, Uncle Max hiding under the dining room table with his paws over his ears and Harriet, shaking uncontrollably sitting on Dad, meanwhile I made sure the fireworks came nowhere near us by barking very loudly all night. 

Lunch

looking like several bars of music, some reckless starlings confront the local vulture. 

morning light

sometimes it is hard to convey the astonishing beauty and peace of the space we walk through; with tall trees and autumnal tones it feels like the inner space of an enormous joyful cathedral

who's watching who

... you may see that we were being watched as well. Usually, it is very difficult to see deer through the thickets and trees

fly agaric

...the archetypal toadstool, at least in my mind, mind you it could be something else entirely. In canine lore there is usually a small homunculus sitting on the cap smoking a hookah 

Stoke Climsland

another year goes by. Very little has changed in the view of the village from Kit Hill, caught in the lovely soft low light of evening in late autumn, although for us many things have changed. I sometimes wonder where these changes reside because often they lack any materiality. When you look at these images, imagine the millions upon millions of invisible connections and relations of all the people before you, their memories, thoughts and emotions; in what space do they lie?