It’s coming on Christmas. The days have crossed themselves off the calendar, and here we stand at the year’s tipping point of light into darkness into light. ’Tis the season for enfolding, being quiet, doing less. Instead though, the season demands a deluge of doing, much of which is enormous fun – should one have … Continue reading It’s Coming On Christmas
What is it to make a memory except to take notice of the everyday.
December seems to be a month crammed with responsibility and obligation, assignments and commitments causing us to accelerate as we approach year end. This runs contrary to instinct, which would have us slow down, recline into the depths of the year and let ourselves ape nature in coming to rest like the dried-out teasel heads … Continue reading Stillness
Auden, Barrett-Browning, Cope, Dickinson, Eliot, Frost, Gallagher, Heaney, Ibsen, Jamie, Kinnell, Larkin, Mahon, Neruda, Owen, Plath, Qabbani, Rossetti, St Vincent Millay, Thomas, Updike, Vaughan, Wordsworth, Xenokleides, Yeats, Zephaniah. Who is your favourite? Feel free to reach beyond the 26 I’ve offered you; I was just playing the alphabet game, and, in doing so, left out … Continue reading Advent
My Edinburgh Press 