As you will no doubt see over at Bones’ blog I finally managed to retrieve her bike from the Rozzers. Bones in Banbury, surprisingly under the footbridge. There is a set of these at Thrupp called the Heron which I cannot understand. Funny ol’ thing this is not that understandable to me either.
The Greek who said you could never step into the same river twice hadn't dreamt of the slow seepage of canals with their oil and graphite sheen liquid packed solid as a pencil lead where time is cased in a long cabinet stowed with the ownerless archives of two centuries of weather. The lump of coal from Warwickshire, the tipcat, the fender, the bleached horse's tail once tied to a painted tiller.
My favourite art in Banbury is this pirate constructed from wire.