I walked across the fields to Adam's studio. He had phoned earlier to say that he was opening the kiln. Swallows flew low over the grass. Further up the field a great red bull cropped grass. I walked quietly and quickly and the grass must have been sweet. He did not seem to notice.
At Adam's studio I was unprepared for the discovery that as the pots cool, once the kiln is open, the glazes sing like a quiet musical box. Beautiful.
Most of these pots will be packed up to travel to Art in Action. Two large ones still wait, drying slowly before firing and glazing. And in my garden, the white pot that I saw a few walks back. Like a fallen moon.