Just to be, in silence in the woods at dusk, the last sun sinking, to celebrate the turning of the day, the cycle of the moon, a world full of tomorrows.
Blog – Friday 12th August 2016
Pub A week without wine? Feel the ridges in the brickwork, the mortar, run your fingers over the sculpted contours of plaster by the fireplace. Rottingdean The tide has turned and is rising, fingering rock pools, lifting seaweed, animating crabs.
Blog – Friday 5th August 2016
Postcard from Croatia Gostiona Milina. Beach. June. A tyre filled with concrete as the base for a bright, yellow and white parasol catching the onshore breeze. Butterflies of many different kinds flying in from the sea one by one, each
Blog – Friday 29th July 2016
Since my time on the South Bank last week, I’ve been thinking – Why should a company bother to train employees in mental health, and mental health first aid in particular? There’s an excellent report and toolkit from Business in
Blog – Friday 22nd July 2016
Last week on 17th July, after the attempted coup on President Erdogan, the New Yorker published an article, written by Eric Schlosser, on H bombs in Turkey. The premise of the article was to ask ‘How secure are the American
Blog – Friday 15th July 2016
On Friday morning, the alarm clock radio woke us to the horror of the night before – a lorry crashing through crowds in Nice – 84 dead, 50 critically injured, many of them children. The driver deliberately swerving to hit
Houdini’s Wife – by Amy Schreibman Walter
He didn’t try to make you disappear or hide you away – boxed, bikinied. The others emerged from wooden chests, dark places. Like butterflies, but dusty. He didn’t try to make you disappear – his departures were enough. The others
Blog – Friday 8th July 2016
Be seated. Balance. Right foot for support. Rotate the right hand sixty degrees, press with the right thumb, clench the left fist, flick down the left toes, twist the right wrist, release the left fist, twist the right wrist more,
Continuity – by Marie Barrett
Delving in his garden High up on the North Downs My father came upon a strange stone, Shiny, sandy-coloured with darker lines Running through it. Seventy million years ago the geologists reckoned This stone was laid down upon the sea’s
In A Blue Moon – by Ted Walter
Glass a yet silent, milk bottles, poised above concrete, suspend my evening ritual as tall, slow-striding Orion gathers momentum, hurdling rooftops. His bright constellation dwindles beyond shadow; the wings of my childhood folding, unfolding, lifting through dewfall. Beyond the bright
Ted Walter
Blog – Friday 1st July 2016
07:30 the end of two minute’s silence in commemoration of the battle of the Somme, one hundred years ago today. Watching on silent TV in the waiting room of the fracture clinic at the hospital. Every ailment here quite evident: