to Holy Corner

traffic lights at the crossing

a junction of souls

high in branches bare

crows in session, all clamour

a murder they claim

This written at my desk watching a wee scene unfold in the garden

the red robin strays

watching the large tom cat retch

curiously close

I was cycling down to New Cross from Hackney for a few years during my MFA at Goldsmiths. Some roads I got to know well.

down the Old Kent Road

wise to its length and longing

it’s home to me now

Out cycling with a good friend whose mother had just died suddenly

remembering ways


on lanes with forgotten names


the path chooses us

Winter

fields of cold earth ploughed

dew-damps sods in long lines wait

a skein of wild geese

Autumn

low sun on Church Lane

a confection of hue’d leaves

autumn dispatches

squawking flocking gulls

tearing worms from fresh turned earth

oblivious plough

Spring

therefore never send

to know for whom the blue bells

toll, they toll for thee

sharp blue sky, white clouds

wind in the wheat green fields, or

Miyazaki’s hand?

Summer Holiday in the West Kootenays, British Columbia

Walking along ridges amongst the high peaks in Selkirk mountains. It is late summer and according to the locals it has been an especially hot one. Only smudges of snow here and there. At 7500ft up we look at towering peaks that stare back at us across valleys that sweep far down below and we are pulled into the landscape by the huge mountain range. It is quiet but for a slight breeze and we are entirely alone in the vast emptiness. Are we ever alone?

remote Selkirk peaks

uninterrupted embrace

in our path, bear prints

It becomes quite gloomy in places where the trees thicken and we have to clamber over and around broken and fallen trees - mainly cedar and larch. I notice that the large prone trunks have trees sprouting along their length. I guess the decaying wood provides nutrients for the new growth. Some have as many as three or four trees growing from their sides. Julius tells me these are known as ‘nurse-logs’.

in forests unnamed

walking on animal trails

nurse-logs for company

out in leafy lanes


Far From The Madding Crowd there 


in phone box library

After a tough day cycling in Surrey tackling some hard hills

surrey hills sortie

that Bar Hatch bar none they say

a steep learning curve

We had almost a week of unseasonably hot weather in February - a few days of short sleeves and sunglasses. It was so out of place though - unsettling despite the pleasure of the warm sun on our skin.

as harbingers go

the sun-coaxed daffodils know

that false sense of Spring

trees lose their grip as

frigid boughs let slip their leaves

willows weep each tear

April the cruellest?

then October the kindest


its long warm shadows

Spring keys the hard earth

as Winter-locked each cell yields

to our tilt and turn

Summer

escaped London planes

for avenues of poplar

and pine scent descents

Trekking through the forest with the Lardeau river on our left and the hillside rising steeply up on the right, this is the only way to progress along the valley on this side of the river. It is extremely rare for people to come along here so this track is made by the wildlife - bears, wolves, cougars, deer, beaver and all sorts of smaller animals. We’re hoping we come across a grizzly and Julius my friend and guide teaches me about the bears that roam these valleys and mountains. He explains what we should and should not do if we meet one along this path and I try to keep a mental note of what he says. The river sound is an incessant drone that deepens the surrounding silence. The main noise is caused by our passing. I expect to see some wildlife, but I think they are wise to our presence and have withdrawn to the wings and are watching as we traverse their stage.

on a lonely track

rehearsing my grizzly lines

this backwoods theatre

At the lodge one morning we decide to do some yoga to stretch and loosen tight muscles. Three males: two nearing 50 years and a spritely 15 year old take the space by the huge floor to ceiling windows that look out across the ranch. As I move stiffly through the routine, I notice one of the Alsatian dogs, Masha, stands on the deck outside looking in through the window at the antics. She tilts her head sideways.

yoga on the ranch

we three downward facing dogs

Masha’s not convinced