The children were playing this morning and I was sat at the kitchen table trying to read. Trying to shoe-horn in some lentement before the drum beat of the day becomes over-powering.

I was distracted by the view out of my kitchen window.  It is nothing out of the ordinary.

There are houses that back onto our garden about 150 metres away. Lewis Moody (ex-England Rugby Captain) lives in the house that backs onto ours. He never pops round.


There I was looking out the window distracted from my contemplations.

I picked up my pen and started to sketch the view.

I’m not a great artist but encouraged by the thought that art is very much defined by the eye of the beholder I marked the blank page staring up at me.

I drew the window frame.

I put the buildings in. Jagged lines for rooves and tiles.

I sketched the tree – my favourite tree – and placed the foliage. I added a few more branches with uncertainty. It looks something like the tree. I consoled myself.

I finished by making sure the window handle was in and attempted to capture the morning mist that shrouded the view with its soft vapour.

Five minutes and done.  A little early morning lentement.

And now breakfast; toast, kids, shreddies, demands, cornflakes, butter, grapes and milk

Fully engaged and busy again.