June went up a silent road; I watched from a window (I call it my frowning window as only the ones the other side of the house smile), a young female runner overtook her only to be overtaken herself by an older man - the man waited for a shadow from the spirit world (if I was younger he would have waited for a bipedal bird such as an ostrich). I got up as the dog and the dog got up as me; she later took me for a walk where I sniffed the hedgerow for inspiration. I spent the remainder of the day as a philistine in a poetic garden. Flowers I would like to grow flew overhead on their way to exotic holiday destinations. I meant to mention to June that it would be nice to weed a foreign land but she surprised me by coming home reconstituted as a sponge cake.