Seeking Sunset on Sunday

In Richmond, wintrmute and I walk past boats full of flowers and lanes of nightingales.

Parakeets fly out of gnarled trees that look orange in the fading light, and on King Henry VIII's Mound, people peer into the mist, hoping to see St Paul's Cathedral through a telescope. I climb into a partially hollow tree, surrounding myself with rotting wood. There are little holes that I notice, probably caused by a xylophagous creature, before extricating myself and jumping back outside to the real world.

It is then that the sunset blooms from the sky, in pink, blue, orange and yellow, and it is then that the trees appear as silhouettes, but it is later that we eat deep fried artichokes.