breakfast

I've recently moved out of cacophony that is Brixton, and to the leafy suburbs of Surrey. I've swapped the 24 access to dubious fried chicken and easy of the Victoria line commute for a quiet flat nestled on a lake that is home to some friendly and inquisitive ducks.

There is something about the light out here. Maybe it's because, away from the lined Victorian terraced housing, we have more of it. Maybe it's because there's a bit more space so I notice it more. Maybe it's that I feel that now when I get home, life slows down a bit, and there is actually the time to notice it. 

This morning, my visiting sister and I made buttermilk pancakes, with berries and maple syrup, and while they were cooking, I played around with taking a few still life shots of the berries in some little bowls I bought in Morocco a few years back.