I've been sitting in my potting shed thinking of Silver working at the scrap yard because the last time I was at the allotment one of the other tenants suggested I 'riddle' the weeds that I had dug up in the summer, to reclaim the soil. I remembered it was during one of my visits to Silver that I discovered the meaning of riddling. Silver was using an old bed base, the kind that's made of wire mesh and would have supported a straw mattress, suspended over a skip. He was agitating the bed base that served as a giant sieve through which he was riddling the soil out of clods of grass, reclaiming the soil and casting away the grass and roots. The resulting topsoil was a source of income at the scrap yard. Later, when I was snapping twigs and continuing to build what seemed to be becoming a winter habitat for small creatures, I felt calm and content and thought about Ghandi spinning every day. I remember being told that Ghandi performed this day-to-day task as a means to humility (25th October 2006).