Now the moon is half hidden by pinkish cloud. A crow glides low over the grass and lands 20 metres away.

21:31 the light is fading now but I can still see to write. I decide to sit a little longer looking at, and listening to, apparent nothingness...

A hooded person walks by in the middle distance, half way to the trees. All the trees and the grasses seem to me to be waiting (I remember being described in Argentina as 'a man alone, and waiting'... that was 35 years ago and I feel that I still am, and will continue...)

Two people emerge from the tumulus, the crow flies back where it came from, and an old man wals by witdout moving his aans at all - I can't see to write now...

the city lights begin to go on, and yes, it's getting difficult to see (21:47).

Back in the city: a bright moon, seen from the streets against a navy blue sky between buildings, and above manicured trees, - somehow it is even more astonishing... especially when a noisy waste collection truck jumps and bangs over speed bumps in the dark... two worlds seen as one, but very different.

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