119/2023

Everything stopped
at that point. Even slow
motion ceased, because
the perfection of that
moment had to be forever
engraved into the air, a
static monument,
the ball about to leave
the hand from the straight
arm, from behind the
head, wrist cocked back,
front leg braced, front
arm extended, aiming,
a red missile about to
deliver a certain fate
to the white target 22
yards away.

R 29/04/2023 22:28

A wonderful afternoon with two really good friends on Thorpeness golf course. My golf was dreadful, of course, but it doesn’t matter. And the weather was glorious. The rest is silence.