The Earth Beneath Her Feet

I see the damndest things while out on my runs.

How long did it take to stick all those tiny mirrors on?

To make up for yesterday's mean children, ok, children-with-motives-open-to-interpretation (going by the interesting discussion).

This is one of the test shots from the first night with my new Panasonic FX500 back in January. Note how the flash doesn't blow out the colours. Very nice. The 25mm focal length is likewise very nice. Obviously, the 36mm offered by the, now injured, Fuji F10 was fine, but it's hard to go back to now. Though looking back has reminded me of the astonishing amount of rubbish you shoot with a new camera. Actually, this was worse than when I got the old camera, I was weeks into my trip back home before I could take photos that were reliably decent.

Spotted this late one night.

Isn't there a quote about how lovely it is to listen to children play, as long as you're not close enough to hear what they're actually saying?

[Hurray for mrscosmopolite and liasbluestone. It's from Hogfather.]

Moving to London was the first time I saw the phenomenon known as anti-climb paint. The wall looked like a regular painted wall, except for 1) the sign saying "anti-climb paint" and 2) the footprints at head height that showed up beautifully against the white. An illiterate snail was sliding its way up the wall next to the warning, causing me to regret the absence of a camera.

But this will do instead:

(Thank you, gmh, for the inspiration. *g*)

Yesterday I was in south London, having lunch at the cutely named Dippy Egg. I think it's the first greasy spoon I've been into since I moved here. Anyone not familiar with the term can probably guess what it means, plenty of fuel and none too healthy. Stroopwafel Fiend's lunch was a good example: a sausage and bacon sandwich. My salad tried to run away but couldn't move on account of being weighed down by the large amount of dressing.

SF and me then went to the supermarket to get tea and raspberries for pudding (as you do). On the way, on a non-descript bit of street, I spotted these houses through some railings:

Kennington Lane

Nice and a little Mediterranean. Even the weather seems to agree.