i'm just back in the house from taking our lurcher, Rosa, out for her late piss and shite. i live just along from dorothy and william wordsworth's childhood home and where we go is between the back wall of their garden and the river derwent in cockermouth, cumbria. the moon is so bright tonight = i don't think i have ever seen my shadow so dark and well-defined. the daffodils at the back of the wordsworths' are not in in fact 'a host of golden' tonight, they are many, tall and white, with a shadow for each on the grass. and a couple of brightly glistening turds - now safely deposited in william wordsworth's dog shit bin. i do this most nights - me, the dog, the shite, the house and the river. the moon doesn't always show up and the daffodils will soon be gone. and it won't be as quiet as this forever....i hope