Every drawing here began as a pause on a walk.

Wild patches found in nobody's land. Cracks, kerbs, the corners no one tends.

Six months beside one boundary wall, listening to what settled where two bricks meet.

Before the pavements, the woods. Everything growing over everything else, and no one in charge.

Gardens drawn from above, each bed and path set down like a line in a letter.

The earliest drawings. Houses the green has begun to take back, one creeper at a time.

Before the pen, the walk. These are the things that stopped her, photographed where they grew.