Today I am mostly garlic:yesterday I was toast, andtomorrow I shall be honey This is a journey I have made beforefrom breakfast to bed and back:the sting and the sweetnesson your unsuspecting tongue Today I am classic Greek:yesterday I was…
Read: Garlic
I have to admit that I am over 70. I am therefore at risk and cannot be allowed out of the house except for exercise. I cannot buy my own food. My wife and I cannot help anyone else and…
Read: Are we so afraid of death that we’ll do anything to avoid it?
I am awayfrom the hurl and burly of life:I lurk in my house, watching the enemy go by The street is empty:my enemy is invisible –he may kill meor he may not I cannot hold your handor comfort youin case the…
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As it’s Easter week, I decided not to write anything about Palm Sunday, Good Friday, Black Saturday or Easter Sunday, on the grounds that what I say will already have been said by members of the clergy not allowed into…
Read: Stand well clear
This would be a good time to be walking on the breathtaking beach at Luskentyre in the Outer Hebrides – assuming the weather is as sunny and (fairly) warm as it is at the moment in Norwich. Last time I…
Somewhere undergroundwhere tree roots and fungi interconnectwhere rock falls apart and lets strangers in,where cities crouch under citieswaiting to re-emerge a man walks through walls,living partly in stone and partly in air,waiting for the viruses to leave He moves out under…
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Shortly after we left Bethlehem, they closed it down. If our journey had been a week later, we would probably still be there, stranded by the coronavirus. We would not even be able to wander round the rather beautiful Church…
Read: Getting out of Bethlehem
Out of contextyour lips are extraordinarily directyour eyes unmistakable Out of contextI am uncertainabout my reaction Why are you here tonightout of context,not fitting that space allotted to you? Uncertainty is a principle with me:sometimes it helpsand sometimes it doesn’t…
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As I sit here in the middle of Storm Ciara, well protected (I hope) by several walls and a roof, my thoughts turn to Westray, in the Orkney islands, where there are no trees. Admittedly, that does avoid the possibility…
In white snowon a grey daylines fade awayand there is no shadow Like an avalanche,beauty buries itself,paints itself blind,covers its face and you, even youare almost invisible,shape-aching for the sunto throw itselfinto the fray or darkness to fall either extreme…