all change

No snow. But the theatre of the sky, the trees, the hill, the city, never fails to deliver. Tonight aeroplanes have been drawing a backdrop across the blue.

late

Almost night. The Narnia lampost near the gate floods magic over the dry leaves. Mr Tumnus dances, goatfooted, in the bushes near the dog shit bin. The city twinkles - each light a window, each window a story.

forecast

A fence is being strung out at the bottom of the hill, ready for the winter sledgers - the word is out there'll be snow tomorrow. Grass stands crisply to attention. A single column of smoke is held vertical in the still air.

crafty night

Urban valleys billow and fold trimmed by ribbons of sequinned lights. We chase sticks down the tilting twilight hill.

evening

Bad lad on motorbike swathes through the evening dog dawdlers. Dry leaves curl and gnarl like old hands underfoot.

cold snap

Crisp frosty Christmas cake of a morning. No breath of wind. Cold leaves finally let go and fall, each making a single crackly whisper.Two little boys stagger across the path playing blind man's buff, hats pulled down over their eyes. Clutch of magpies and crows gaggle and peck round the benches at the top of the hill. A banner of mist stretches between the frozen world of the park and the gold painted city.

roost

Last of the light, teenagers huddle on benches or scuff back home through the leaves. Minnie and I meet the postman who took in the puppy of the dog that bit him. His smiley girl waves a frozen brown leaf from her pushchair. Birds circle and roost.

minnie

Skitterer, squatter, pisser, sidler, bum sniffer, wagger wagger.

breathe

Slanting sun, long shadows, secret funghii on rotting wood. Hen blackbird dots her beak into damp leaves. A woman in white yoga stretches at the top of the hill. Minnie-the-part-time-dog jousts with a lurcher. Arc of bright sky, city hums below.

november paintbox

The last of the light around 4.30, a mackerel sky. Shadows beyond the thin curtains of bright leaves, random lights in the darkening terraces. The new mosque's green dome paints itself against the city's collage of Victorian Gothic, 60's tower blocks, tacky retail parks. Under my feet, rowan berries smudge and spew.