a walk in hamstead heath


so, during this walk i apparently took 10988 steps at the rate of 90 per minute, over a two hour period during a random ambulatory walk in the second most beautiful park in london. [the most beautiful park in london, brockwell park, is far smaller, a mere 3.5 km in circumference]

that said, hamstead has great beauty as my walking partner has demonstrated with her photos:


my point being: urban parks are far from decorative attributes to city living: they offer a way of life that has yet to be recognized by the city dweller. a bit of the planet which they could loose all too easily.

wim wenders brilliant film: the trailer for which, can do no justice…


Excerpt from, The Auctioneer, working title


[mdb, september 2016]






The Undecidable


The story of how I became an auctioneer features accident more than glory or infamy. The difference, in my case, is undecidable. In fact, one must indulge in fantasy considerably to call it a story at all. For how could a story arise from a series of random events? Even my role is unsettled. It is more truthful, or at least more accurate, to call myself a trafficker. But this distinction too remains undecidable. It is true that I presided over selling both singular and indiscriminate lots of memories to the highest bidders. But it is false that I did so neutrally. If I had, I wouldn’t now be recording these thoughts. Some think that I had a secret advantage, some special power that allowed me to trade in memory with impunity. It is this accusation that has forced me to make this record, to dispel it, if I can, to save myself.


Ro’moth, Recordia-Ath, Bio-01, 2171


and, more from LFH [aka: michael s. moore]: that couldn’t be more relevant to this post: and in his response to my question:


i’d really like to know why ponds have to be filled in… from the little i know, you have dug them in the first place to support wildlife. so why do you need to fill them in again?


As a man of many words you also seem to be a man of late nights, but image heavy post is up…if you go looking you’ll find it, I think [I usually find them through the link on the website]…notifications go out early on the subsequent mornings.

Anyway, Waters.  After 20+ years our artesian wells are losing production; head has dropped due to many years of drought [to the point where they are now barometric – when a high comes through the flow stops – also the casings have corroded to the point where the perforations are pretty much closed up.  Last summer most ponds went dry and although with the onset of fall I could have begun restoring them I let them dry further so Willey [the local equipment-of-all-trades guy] could come in, eradicate the cattails and make the surface [and therefore evaporative] areas smaller by 1/4 to 1/3.  Partly the leftover plant material helped to fill…anyway, in an heroic effort he and another local managed to accomplish the last major push in eight solid hours of diesel smoke today.  At least we all think they did; it was too dark to see by the time he left.

This below is where we’re working;



I can’t wait to get out there in the morning for a look…

First, some chicken, some sleep…twenty degree nights it’s been.




a walk in hamstead heath

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