Sunday, 5 October 2008


I'm typing this overlooking the Scholars' Garden at my college. I've slid the window open so far that I am as near to sitting typing in the rain as possible. I can see: dripping green barred with grey mildew, livid skies, dark, wet trunks. Lawns leaf-scattered. Puddles swelling in the paths; a bush of blue-grey rue humped against the holly, red-berried, darkly gleaming. Beech boughs rise and fall in the wind like fingers over a keyboard. On the dark twist of the topmost linden branch, a few yellow leaves are clinging, fluttering like a shoal of tiny yellow fish nibbling a spray of black coral. The wind makes a far-off sigh like the sea.

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