In the past few years I have intensified the recording of segments, or parts thereof, in the lives of my children. Impossible task as we all know. I try perhaps in vain to commit to visual memory as much as I can. Sometimes there show in the negatives one or two images that raise my pulse. This one in particular, taken ten minutes out of school a week ago, rendered something absolutely beautiful. A moment in time which extends itself to enter the visual lore of noir mischief. I may have seen this scene somewhere in a cinema house in my past. Maybe eastern European. Most definitely English. Kent all the way, with its relentless beauty even under severe grey skies and some hint of desolate earth. And a bit of sun, miraculously.