Three Piece Soup
Boy leaves school. He wears a three piece suit and pocket watch, that’s the kind of Boy he is. After school, finery is returned to wardrobe, walking boots get some exercise. We explore all the way to the stirred mud of river. Clouds have a sense of lurk. Wind drives loud and fast in the narrow lanes. Dog sports some dapper mud trousers. I take her picture. I take generic hedgerow pictures, to illustrate things that I haven’t thought of writing about yet. Boy wonders why not start with the image, would that not be the easier way? Yes, possibly, I concur, but the adventure of it is important, that’s part of the exercise. That’s the difference, I opine, between making soup from a packet mix and creating soup from foraged foodstuffs. No less love in either preparation, necessarily, but the latter has more art.