The first parsnips, roasted.
Crushing a sprig of rosemary, picked from a bush growing beside a gate, reminds me of a scented candle from The Real Flower Company.
Two new, brightly coloured handmade Kantha cushion covers from Bangladesh, via India and Portobello Road. Somewhere, on the other side of the world, someone made them, from a sari someone else once wore. The uneven seams are more lovely for it.
A pheasant, from Paul the butcher. ‘Cook it with Bramleys and celery,’ he says. Last year we were given one, whole, almost warm. The feathers were so beautiful we couldn’t bear to pluck it; somewhere in south London, a fox had a feast.
A dream, in which Desmond Tutu knocks on the door to tell me I need a vision.
Illustration by Mark Hearld, taken from A First Book of Nature by Nicola Davies and Mark Hearld (Walker Books).