Net curtains of rain brush against my face. The old beech tree brought down in the storm lies across the track, its bark the skin of a great whale grimly reflecting the cloud. I poke a puffball with my toe and watch a plume of spores cough in the gloom. The day feels hollowed out and hungry, yet I walk wearing the sky on my head and the earth on my feet. All will be well.
I couldn’t end this year without a walk at Badgers wood and the view to Kellie Law, at the edge of the wood and the point in the walk where I am neither going away from home or yet returning. I like these liminal spaces of possibilities, these transitional places that free one from any expectation. I have these points on all of my walks I guess, of balancing on the edge of the known and unknown. I have reached the boundary of my world, beyond which lies all manner of umappped experiences.
Wishing everyone a very merry time this christmas and a jolly new year. Thank you for all your looks, comments and support this year. Let’s hope next year is better for us all !
The rhythm of the train on the tracks makes the pencil jump and jiggle. Fields and towns, and trees and sidings and bridges and the backsides of peoples houses all hunkered trampolines and slippy decking in the winter gloom. And church spires and power stations and motorways and rivers that steam bend round the edges of meadows all flat and sky filled. All there and then not. Drawing over the last tree and bend in the road, over the last warehouse and pylon and spray of graffiti, the layers of time and place reel more and more until my eyes sizzle. I pinch my mask around my nose as my glasses mist and the world dims in the fog.