Sally Mann is showing at Photographer’s Gallery here in London at the moment.

Her photographs oftentimes leave me with a dual sense of eternity and ephemerality all at once. They have been lingering in my mind when pottering around the house for the last week or so.



Oh, I have such sad news that I don’t know how to give tongue to them. Albertine, the tiniest of hens and my sweetest of garden friends, has past away. She was thin and shy, but I had not grasped the full severity of her situation, to the degree that we never even made it to the vet…and for that I shall never forgive myself. We have ordered the rose ‘Albertine’ to plant in her memory, but right now I just wish the sorrow could be quiet and plain and not flecked by all this guilt, because both at the same time, seem so much harder to take. Albertine, my unfortunate little girl; you were worth so much more. Now I shall have to adhere to the other three, before this story turns into And Then There Were None. I am terrified that something should happen to any of the others and must keep my eyes open at all hours. Who would have known that keeping hens would be so emotionally draining.