Number 30

A newly build wall, with ornate wrought iron fence and gates.

A newly laid herringbone block-work driveway, no weeds or litter.

And yet the letterbox is held on with sellotape

People watching

Teenage boy with bag of stuff and a mobile phone

crosses the road, finishes his can of drink

and carefully places it on the wall outside number 20.

Turning round as he walks away he sees me watching him,

and has the decency to look a little sheepish.

Baby

No one else noticed, but

she saw me coming up the path

peered round the curtain

and smiled in recognition.

The perfect welcome

Morning mist

the way ahead,

usually meandering gently between the bridges

instead vanishes into the damp muting white

Crows

Two big black crows stalk the garden

one has a beak full of gathered catkins

the other picks at the dry grass

Adventure playground

Watching the children on the rope bridge

I fancy I can see my boys hanging

and shouting amongst them

eyes shining and determined to be the last

to climb down.

Random Hail

the sky pelts me spitefully with tiny hailstones

Ash wednesday

a lady stops to show me

the smudge of black on her forehead

I am politely bemused

magpies

four magpies feasting in the gutter

scatter to the four winds at my approach

Alice again

Alice tells me she comes down stairs backwards,

like a toddler.

She says the stairlift is too slow.

Birthday

Alice is 90

A defiant clutch of cards announcing this fact surrounds a solitary pink floating balloon.

unobservant

I have been doing this duty for three months and three days and this morning as I closed the gate at 77 Alan Road I noticed a huge Monkey Puzzle tree in the front garden, it dominates a street of mostly neglected scrubby hedges or concreted driveways. Why did I never see it before?