It’s only right that my first photos in England are a homage to slowness, to the new life I have crafted where all the compressed bits of me have space to expand and be, to release honeyed words that feed my heart. I love taking photos of my hands although I hadn’t done so in a while. Here they are cradling a trove of wee treasures collected from the yard: apples from two teenage trees, rowan berries, a fallen oak branch adorned with a precious acorn, and a family of toxic but alluring amanita mushrooms that I didn’t put in my mouth.