I didn’t know burial grounds were so full of life. Cemeteries filled with crumbling stones dating back one hundred, two hundred years, hidden and forgotten places known only by lonely dog walkers, head-dwellers, and retirees, places like Warriston Cemetery where the dead sleep while new growth teems with life. My friend took me there earlier … Continue reading Warriston Cemetery
For a few days, it seemed too good to be true: all that heat at the end of March, the sun spilling fool’s gold. It was true though, however, it was too good to last – at this time of the year anyway. I don’t mind the change back to chill. I don’t mind that spring feels … Continue reading Light, Chill and Yellow
The Door, written by Magda Szabó, is a post-war story about a woman’s relationship with her housekeeper, of whom the narrator says, “One can tell instinctively what sort of flower a person would be if born a plant, and her genus certainly wasn’t the rose, with its shameless carmine unfolding – the rose is no … Continue reading Hello Petal
We have so much time to consider, these days. To consider anything and everything. To develop little obsessions, healthy and unhealthy. (Note to self: consider if is there such a thing as a healthy obsession?) My best time, the time I set for considering, is when I’m outside walking and watching, looking and noticing. I’m … Continue reading Time to Consider
There is no more beautiful time of year than spring, when nature is transfused, resuscitated from what, for so long, looked shrivelled and dead. And we get a shot of energy too at this time of year; we are renewed and ready to go. The turn of the year is familiar and comforting and it … Continue reading Begin Again
Today is Candlemas Sunday. It falls forty days after Christmas, and, in the Christian tradition, it marks the official end of the Christmas season. Once, today was the date that all Christmas decorations were brought down. Can you imagine having still had your tree up until now? Today, candles are brought to church, they are … Continue reading Candlemas
Setting off backwards, with a view to the west from my seat on the train, the sun is so bright that it hurts my eyes. A storm is forecast, it should be here by now. The weather is running late. Rabbits are frozen like ornaments in a scrap of scrubby field alongside a stream. The stream … Continue reading Journey
Nine balls I found; lurking under hedges, behind the shed, deep under the straggly hydrangea, wedged by the oil tank, away up in the corner where the first of the rhubarb is waking. They hadn’t been breeding, I know this because they are all of a different species: a medicine ball – the oversized one … Continue reading Balls
“The world needs a wash and a week’s rest.” I love that line. It’s W.H. Auden, from one of his longer poems, Age of Anxiety. Don't you know just what he means? We all need time off work, time off being responsible, or productive. We need time off the exhaustion of maintaining a positive outlook, … Continue reading Age Of Anxiety
After a bit of a delay – a week later than I had planned – I’m back in Edinburgh. “You’ll see a big difference with the stretch in the days,” A. told me. “Sure the days have stretched where I was too,” I reminded her. “I know that,” she answered, “but you’ll still feel it … Continue reading Higher
My Edinburgh Press 