Night I walk the dog late at night, around the streets until we stand on the prom looking out to sea. You can see for miles, the water black and still. Emptiness where the town ends and the sea begins. Lights of the houses behind and if you're quiet— sounds you can't actually hear like the clock ticking on the wall, a TV flaring in the dark, kettle hissing steam... Sometimes there's a kid with a skateboard, no cars, they rarely pass by at dusk, and a ship dancing on the water, not quite an island but beckoning, as islands do. Arriving or leaving - grey ghosts rising on the swell like messages in the air.

Summer A sky bereft of clouds. Dog roses sprinkle pink, aromatic ladders from thorny cages, an anarchy of green and purple exploding into white.

Don't Let Me Drown Swinging footloose, light footed, leaning into nothing. A caught breath, then balance, working to the rhythm of the sea's boredom before a slip and spin across the shore. Whispers trembling along the tightrope. Don't let me drown. (Inspired by an early evening sunset and three young men trying to walk over the waves along a rope strung between the pillars of the pier. http://vimeo.com/24005677)

Peace Peace, and a sort of abstraction, as the metronome counts one pale pink petal after another f a l l i n g in excess on the window's frame.

Crows A cacophony of black plumed crows gleaming amongst dark branches. A scattering of feathers stilled from murderous flight.