Today I feel that I've come to a turning point... to continue such unitary activities as writing this, as a rightful priority, and to cease to give thought and energy to activities for which I lack sufficient time or social support,.. To attend to one activity at a time (as if it were my last?) and thus to throw off the burden of all the others. No more lists (except to choose ONE action when I complete, or abandon, the last activity)...?

But the sound of many conversations, reflected from hard surfaces, irritates and takes my attention - so I pause, just to listen to this sound and to look about...

...As soon as I began looking at the people here (many look old, wealthy, and fit) the sound ceases to distract or to irritate - but nevertheless I decide to go outside again and to continue writing there.

14:25 Beneath an oak tree (which is enough to keep slight rain from the handheld) and I'm glad indeed to be amongst plants and birds in this half-contrived wilderness... I walked here along a tree-roofed avenue, glad of its semi-natural architecture, listened to a blackbird's song, and noticed that the grass has grown about 30 centimetres since I last walked this way... And now I'm sitting on the roots of this oak and looking at foxgloves growing in a fenced-off area of swamp and vegetation nearby.

All is still around me except for a slight swaying of the long branches of the oak and a bee hovering beneath them. Outside the tree, pinkish grasses sway in the breeze... I get up to walk closer to the fenced-off wild plants.

Standing at the fence I see that they are indeed foxgloves, hundreds of them, some purple, some white, and many other plants that grow in marshy soil - dock leaves, brambles, rushes, ferns, and others I don't know the names of.

I stopped again to examine a new ash tree, a little shorter than myself, counted its 30 or so sprays of leaves, and felt the stiffness of its fibrous stalk or trunk. It was growing wild beneath some birch trees - where little oaks are also growing. The oaks seem hard rather than stiff.

17:25 Panorama path. I see smoke in the distance - it looks as if a tall building in west London is on fire . Could it be terrorism? A cloud of smoke 3 times its height is moving southwest... I see no flames.

From a different viewpoint I see that the smoke is not coming from the tall building but from some way beyond it... When I get to a radio I hear that the fire is from a school in south London - some kilometres from where I imagined it to be, in Chelsea... I look at a map of Hampstead Heath and realise that I have been misjudging directions by about 30 degrees.

18:23 It will have taken me about 5 hours to make that trip, to edit the result, and to transfer it to the website. A day's work?... No, it's more like play... my 'rightful priority'!

(these pages are designed to be read with the window set to two-thirds of the screen width)