I just finished the last page in my small sketchbook, although technically it wasn’t the last page in the book, but the last empty page, which strangely, was, or should I say is, the second page in, which for some reason I cannot remember, got left blank. [Is this making any sense?] Anyway, the drawing I have done is of the two white birch trees in my mums garden, the same scene that I drew a year ago, which was then the first page of my new sketchbook, and guess what had been drawn on the last page of the previous book. Yes, the same two birch trees!

I have made several birch tree sketches recently, in different places. The trees become recognisable after I have looked at them long enough and I feel a strange sense of comfort, that they will still be there, [hopefully], when I go back, like the ones in mums garden and the ones in the woods across the road, living their whole lives quietly, where they stand.