Winter Notes Six : MIST

What is it about mist. It's a bit magical, don't you think? It's a cloud in a place where a cloud shouldn't be. Not inpenetrable, you can see quite far, yet it changes everything. It renders the familiar unfamiliar, messing with our sense of perspective and place. Am I on the ground, or am I… Continue reading Winter Notes Six : MIST

Winter Notes: Five

This semi-distant line of trees is an obsession of mine, mainly because I can't work out if I can get there without trespassing. Walk down the track, past the cottage and barns, and the path you could take is quite definitely NO ACCESS. Besides, that route may entail crossing a bit of river, but maybe… Continue reading Winter Notes: Five

Winter Notes: Four

A moment of joy on a gloomy January morning. Cycling along the short stretch of Thames Path (a journey I do 4 days out of seven), the meadow alongside is a small lake and two flocks of gulls rest there. As I ride by they lift into small murmurations, swooping overhead, I can hear their… Continue reading Winter Notes: Four

Winter Notes: Three

On the Thames Path the geese are back. In the mornings they honk in squadrons along the river, and argue under Donnington Bridge by the Sea Scouts hut. By the afternoons they're a bit knackered and I find them waddling with attitude along the towpath, giving the side-eye to dog walkers and cyclists like me.… Continue reading Winter Notes: Three

Winter Notes : Two

So wet by the end of December. We had days of torrential downpouring, I wondered if the water would ever stop falling. I found a little waterfall on the steps to Christchurch from Merton Grove. A London visit. I don't usually suffer from the dark. I love the little Christmas lights on trees, festive windows,… Continue reading Winter Notes : Two

Winter Notes : One

By the Thames. A world apart from the grumbling, smoky red-tail-light traffic up above on the ring road A young tree points skywards. A cloudy Monday morning but there is still colour to be found in gentle browns, greens and greys. East Hendred. Birch and puddles beneath a suddenly blue sky. The crisp air sun… Continue reading Winter Notes : One