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?…

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…

Home.

Home. I feel these hills in my bones Love stretched taut Over the skeleton Of Froggatt Edge This sun blazed face On the right side of the valley   The colour of these rocks is my soul Dreich As the Scots But grit, enduring As Edensor blue   Fin cop Higger tor White sky Winter…

Cold.

Go, now.   Cross the threshold of your front door and breathe in the sharp night air Gaze up at the star-peppered bright north sky that has watched you, now far from those days of your youth when you did not take for granted the contrast between safety and warmth and the thrill of cold…