I just put some more paper in a pocket on my jacket since I scribbled the old ones full today, been out in the beautiful weather, haven't gotten anything done but I'm in a good mood and don't feel as stressed as yesterday. Today's scribbles:

It's a perfect autumn day. The air is clear and high with the freshness that only comes after a cold rain. Once in under the trees the comfortingly damp smell of decaying leaves and the somewhat sharper one of old needles mix with sunlight filtering down through the red and yellow (and a fair bit of green still, depending on what kind of tree you're under) glittering on countless drops of water.

The sloe is ripe now, this is when we should have picked them not two weeks ago. Turns out they worked well for fruit syrup anyway, it just got a bit colourless.

Somebody's hung poems by Wislawa Szymborska along the trail, so I'm stopping every hundred steps or so to read. This is much better than reading them from a book, since I get those hundred steps to turn the words over instead of at most the turning of a page.

It seems a bit odd now that I won't be here to see the spring flood in Kvarnbo with the old wooden stairs beyond the bridge turned into an icy waterfall.
I realize, now that I actually think about it, that I've never been away from Uppsala for more than a month at a time before

It's fun to look through these little notes, I've had them in my pocket for years and there are lots of odd bits and pieces of things; phone numbers without names, names I don't remember, bits of calculations, sketches of I don't remember what (one looked like a decision tree at first, but now I think it's a sketch of a pile of cans), a coffee stain though I don't drink coffee, of and here are a couple of numbers to people I might actually want to call :)


Don't eat those berries they're poisonous (but the flowers are pretty and smell lovely).

And here's what came out of my playing with origami late last night, a red and white penguin in an oversized samurai helmet.