It's early and deadly still. The best part of the day. I can see my neighbour on the hill checking her sheep. It's the same lane, the same field but in the morning frost, this dawn creates another world. Later, the wind will whip up a little and the sun will fill up these shadows with light. For now the long dark tree . . .
As November takes hold, maybe winter begins? The community on the hill and here on the lane are winding down, burrowing in behind closed doors. Close to the window there are white roses budding and flowering, in their own rhythm. Sure they don't seem to know if it's day or night! And in the workshop there are sounds of tapping and . . .
It's dark, it's late and the November evening light is seeping away. We had no summer and now out of season, a patch of hedgerow is coming back into bloom. While hoping to snap berries and rosehips, here I am taking dark photos of blackberry blossoms and buds. Sprinkles of life in the shadowy withering tangle....Late . . .