Coal Bunker, Stoke Bruerne, February

The bunker has been patched so many times it reads like a palimpsest — breeze block against the original brick, a strip of corrugated iron tacked along the roofline where the mortar finally gave up. I worked wet-into-wet for the sky and let the granulation do the heavy lifting on the stonework, then came back in dry to pull out the flaking whitewash on the gable above. There is a terracotta pot wedged between the bunker wall and the towpath fence, holding nothing but last year's dead fennel.