In Elsted (69/365), originally uploaded by :Duncan.

Taken this morning in the small and quiet West Sussex village of Elsted at the beginning of the walk to Cocking.

Wood Anemones (68/365), originally uploaded by :Duncan.

I didn’t try to tidy up this woodland ground scene, so you get twigs, dry grasses, last year’s leaves and the vibrant new growth of grass, and these wood anemone leaves and delicate flowers. Up near the old gypsy caravan.

Bumble (67/365), originally uploaded by :Duncan.

An early bumble bee bumbling on a white flower not yet open

My Favourite Kind (65/365), originally uploaded by :Duncan.

So many daffodils out this year. I really like these two-coloured ones.

Hail Cloud (63/365), originally uploaded by :Duncan.

Too many cloud pictures? Never!

World’s Largest Cities:

1: Ipswich
2: Philadelphia
3: Brighton
4: Mexico City
5: California

*as at 3 April 2010

When you come directly into contact with fear, there is a response of the nerves and all the rest of it. Then, when the mind is no longer escaping through words or through activity of any kind, there is no division between the observer and the thing observed as fear. It is only the mind that is escaping that separates itself from fear. But when there is a direct contract with fear, there is no observer, there is no entity that says, “I am afraid.” So, the moment you are directly in contact with life, with anything, there is no division – it is this division that breeds competition, ambition, fear. So what is important is not how to be free of fear. If you seek a way, a method, a system to be rid of fear, you will be everlastingly caught in fear. But if you understand fear – which can only take place when you come directly in contact with it, as you are in contact with hunger, as you are directly in contact when you are threatened with losing your job – then you do something; only then will you find that all fear ceases. We mean all fear, not fear of this kind or of that kind.

– Krishnamurti

I found him in a dingy room, dirty water running along the back in a gutter or open sewer. He had been there a long time and was weak, stifled, but safe. The door was heavy, of iron or steel so he had felt trapped, perhaps held prisoner. Now that I had opened the door and said to him he was free to leave, he was reluctant, despite behind held so long, saying he kind of liked it there, it was safe, known. The door had, in fact, been unlocked all along but he hadn’t tried it. As time seemed short, I told him I was leaving the door open to at least let some air in, and left the option for him to close it, lock it, or to leave it open – his choice. I said that he could leave whenever he felt like it, whenever he was ready, do as he wished. That was the end of our meeting. I felt he had left it open and a change was to come. He was a younger me.