June and I got up later than usual among the dust sheets of a newly painted day. After a breakfast laid out like a besieging army we decided to go out for a Spring shop. We left the house in a semi-transparent state; a row of trees like condemned cattle at a water trough shone through her and a procession of martyred saints shone through me - I told the child in a push chair that they were really young bushes surrounding a very old stile: a statement soon reinforced when a middle aged man preceded to climb over it. I secretly thought that all people were like spring flowers pushing through frozen ground and was just about to state this fact when a person I never knew at school walked by without speaking. Looking back I saw he was dropping directions to a place I never planned to visit.