Beautiful warm morning. Surveying the rack and ruin of the garden, astonishing to see tomatoes and courgettes flowering and fruiting. Potatoes I must have missed sprouting again, after the rain. Water on for my neighbour’s cows, moving into my bottom field here to finish off the sorghum.

Egun on, my friends. It’s Tuesday, let this Basque chap cheer you up. It’s guaranteed. They got apples and squashes and a fearsome rotavator. Riches indeed.

‘toy flipao

Jeezus. Carlos Mazón at the state funeral for the victims of the Valencia floods. A torrent of shouted curses; rat, coward, ill-born, son of a bitch, murderer…. to much applause…he looked broken. Surely he can’t stick it out any longer. Malparít..

Little poetry fillum. ‘Hungry Country’

Fun. Though someone broke into the car while we were horsing around and stole my..everything. A few years ago mind.

Platja d’Eucaliptus, Delta de l’Ebre.

Thought I’d read a poem for you, because why not? I mean, what are we doing here?

‘Fertile Crescent’