what happens in july

Go outside, the air has only a thin coolness, already honeyed with buddleia.

Nondescript bramble flowers.

Fledgeling birds that can't fly properly, one squatting stoically on a lawn, one on a busy roundabout. A dead one in the alley.

Dead badgers at the side of the road.

Swifts shriek and cannon, two magpies slip into a twinkling rowan and disappear. (Orange-red berries.) Woodpigeons, courting idly, perfecting their bouncing flights.

Big Brother. Flouncy girl, car gunning through the Ind. Est. Things getting nicked.

Banks of colour : rosebay.

The long milky quiet evening into which I always think of roving, but I'm on the computer.

I go to Sweden