Until the sun.

  My love, my daughter. It’s the first day of your next year. We walk out together behind the house to the field to catch the last pink gold of the same sun which has shone for us every day of these last nine years. How can it be the same, when we are not?…

Home, where the spoons are.

Last weekend I found myself tramping through the quiet graveyard of a historic church with my children in tow. Back visiting my parents in the village I grew up in, I’d just enjoyed a kind of watershed moment, realising that one day I would probably be back in this graveyard ON PURPOSE and not just…

What happens when you take children to a literary festival.

Picture the scene – a genteel English country garden, a vintage van selling chilled prosecco, a bunting decked barn and a marquee full of what my husband would call “highbrow Guardian-reading types” listening to a talk by an author on the importance of owls whilst my 6 year old and his new best friend thrash…

The World At My Doorstep

I found out this week I have won 3rd prize in the Wealden Literary Festival writing competition, hurrah! The festival is billed as ‘An enchanting weekend full of words, ideas, local food, arts and crafts celebrating the nature of place’ and entries to the competition were judged by author Katherine May, whose brilliant book ‘The…

Scotland

And in the distance, the promise of hillsides Run up the mountain Rub your face in the soil Skim this waters’ surface, mirrored like foxed glass reflecting perfection which can’t be captured. Like trying to eat the air. To inhabit a mountain. I am not big enough for this landscape of moonsongs and midges It…