Forgotten childhood…

Hull 2013

Walking through my neighbourhood some seven years ago, in the evening, I came across a forgotten doll, remains of a childhood which, perhaps, was in the process of being discarded.

Since then I have seen the girl to whom this doll that, once upon a time, cherished it. She is now a young woman, probably discarding boyfriends.

Archive : The Deep 2012 (detail)

A confluence of light, river, sky, land, carefully positioned clouds on an otherwise blue sky, a brilliant summer afternoon, ingredients to transform a rather mundane scene

(the back of The Deep)

into something that stuck in my mind.

Over the years Sammy Point have evolved from being a derelict finger of land to meet the rivers that define the city.

In medieval times a fort was built on it, although located further in land, to defend the port from the marauding Danish seafarers.

The fort was abandoned, its only traces in the stories of the city, and the recently excavated foundations visible in a dig.

The Deep, designed by Terry Farrell, is one of the few successful Millennium projects.

2021-02-08 : Springy

This morning

there were whiteness all around

Russian winter arrived to Hull

finally

Springy

well fed

and warm

kept looking through the glass

2021-02-06 Rainy morning

2021-02-06

Rain this morning, I could hear it knocking on my bedroom window as I was waking up, I positioned my bed next to it, the rain singing its tune on the glass, the stars gliding is the last thing I see before closing my eyes.

As spring is coming up, I am looking forward to the sun shining on my face.

After a while, I heard the chirping of the birds, sparrows mostly, perhaps blue tits too, also, marauding gulls about to dive after spotting a morsel on the ground. Flocks of starlings will fill the sky and the soundscape with their impatience later.

Tanzanian black coffee on my hand in the balcony, stray drops of water hitting on my face, the cold and the wind embracing me, Yannick on my lap until Blackie, a neighbouring cat came to have her usual morning bite.

Even in winter, perhaps specially in winter, I love to feel surrounded by the morning.

Flock of blackbirds

This morning my peace was disturbed by the racket these guys were making… Alighted on the high branches of a tree for then to fly on circles… disappearing…re-appearing… to alight on the branches… over and over for a few minutes…

Then, silence.

All quiet now…

Were they greeting the coming Spring?