13 – 24 July 2026

Monday 13 July It feels like there was a party in the wood and now it’s suffering the consequences. The birds are silent. Catkins drape across every path, branch and twig like spent party streamers. Fallen trunks look twice as bare, exhausted and drying out slowly. Tuesday 14 July Sunrise: 4:59am There are blackberries ripening on Green Alkanet Alley. From the train you can see bright blue paddling pools sitting on crisp yellow grass, although some lawns are still a deep tree-green. Plastic grass: the guest that brings all the pizzazz to a party but nothing to drink. London Bridge is packed. Too many people to count in the bus queue and the bridge itself is full of walkers connected to their phones, watching screens instead of the world around them. I weave in and out, clench and unclench my fingers. In the ironmongers a man looks up as I descend the stairs. I ask if he’s got a fork. “Diggin’?”“Eatin'”“Follow me.”I tell him this place is amazing and he says it’s amazing it’s still…