That’s Edd, just over a week ago. I saw him looking like a picture as he looked out from his new lookout point. I want to ask, where has the time gone, but then I remember, it shaped itself into a circle that day.
Edd, is a fellow writer, poet and maker of cakes that he always calls Lush, whatever their flavour. You can’t tell, but if you were to look over his shoulder, you would see a delicate slice of Lush right in front of him with its lemony scent. Next to it, you would see his latest book find, Awesome; he calls all of them that as they sit open on the first page. He told me, as he always does, he had waited a lifetime to read that book.
I was the person behind the lens, seeing him seeing time differently. I saw differently then, the clock stopping precisely so that I could tell the time across days, weeks, years.
I wondered about being 2 metres apart in this orchard meadow as we talked across generations about writing, books, people and life.
I didn’t see him eat the cake but I knew he had when I found myself looking up from the poetry I was reading – looking for something yellow for the lemon scent to stem from; and there amongst the flowering grasses were 2 buttercups, one alight and the other in shade. I knew it was a moment, so I stayed with it until it passed to the next and the next; and listened to a blackbird sing and wondered about all the blackbirds that had come before.
When I got up to leave, bag packed, I turned to look at the place I had spent most of the day and there was a nest that hadn’t been there before. It looked like a corn circle, and there was yellow again and I thought of the sun, and saw the earth turning as I had kept turning in the grass in the guiding shade of the spindly old apple tree.
I returned to the nest for the next 2 days, seeing as it was already made. I watched the sun light up the meadow part by part. Edd calls it Orcharding, I call it being in time.