I see a green wrapped leg, raised, a man in white underpants painted on a pot. Earlier stacked up memories. I stand looking across a flat expanse of grass, dew covered silver, green, under a pale blue sky sun. I remember standing here before, on a morning. I remember yesterday remembering this and lying on the studio floor as if lying on the wet dawn grass unfolding my arm. A conker falls from the tree with a clatter as I stand with my back to it, remembering remembering. An apple falls through spaces between branches, thunk onto the ground. I pick an apple from each of two trees in the garden and then hear-see some creature flopping down the path. It is a rolling apple. I roll some more, a satisfying game.