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Rainstorm Over the Sea by John Constable (c1824-28). Photograph: Royal Academy of Arts, London.

Theoretical physicist Jeff Tollaksen declares that the present finds itself firmly sandwiched between the past and what lies ahead, bearing the ‘unique signature of the future’. What’s up? Perhaps we should think of the present as a place where living process – the poetic mind – presses in both directions, wedged between what’s already behind and what’s still in front of us? Like the weather, like being caught away from home, like finding a home in the very situation we’re stuck in. Like anything. Like this number. Like schoolboys squeezing orange pips directed at one another.