Oh, Edinburgh! Dearest city mother with too many children; lady of grace with so much to do; cherished nursemaid laden with contracts of responsibility. Yet you tend to it uncomplaining. You raise your progeny consistently, watchful over everyone who lives here and passes through as you sleep lightly, keeping one eye half open. I know … Continue reading Edinburgh Resting
Category: summer
Whiter Shade of Pale
Some summers are golden; they are tanned legs, they are parched yellow grass, they are sunshine dancing a path on the ocean. Other summers are filled with the primary energy of blue and green; they are endless azure skies into which runner beans curl and stretch, they are hedgerows heavy with honeysuckle, they are jewelled … Continue reading Whiter Shade of Pale
The Trouble With Reality
‘That's the trouble with reality, it's taken far too seriously.’ It’s a line from a song that’s trapped in my head, dancing around in there as I encourage its sentiment to take root. Back in the nineties an Irish band called An Emotional Fish had a hit song, ‘Celebrate’ and that’s what the line is … Continue reading The Trouble With Reality
Rise and Shine
I’m no lark. At this time of the year the sun is up many hours before I am. It is breaking, rising and shining whilst I remain snoring, sinking and languishing. Earlier this week, however, fuelled by a rush of midsummer energy, enthusiasm for life, and renewed hope that it is, after all, a wonderful … Continue reading Rise and Shine
The Running Tide
Here I am at the seaside, again. Torquay this time. Home to Fawlty Towers, and the inimitable Manuel (Qué?). Maybe we’ve hit on a particularly good weekend but I get the feeling it is often like this in Torquay: hot and sunny with endless blue skies. Eternally tanned pensioners watch knots of youngsters crabbing at … Continue reading The Running Tide
Summer’s Parting Sighs
This time last week I didn't even know where Clevedon was, never mind think that in a matter of days I would be wandering along its promenade enjoying the late summer sun. But life takes unexpected turns and catapults you to unforeseen places, which for me, yesterday, was the southern shore of the Severn Estuary … Continue reading Summer’s Parting Sighs
Dry Your Eyes, Sunday Girl
Welcome to the dawn of the summer holidays. C., a teacher, described to me her take on the summer holidays. The end of June, she says, is the equivalent of a Friday evening – it gives you that generous and spacious feeling of a weekend; time stretching ahead, filled with rest, adventure and possibility. Right … Continue reading Dry Your Eyes, Sunday Girl
Flowers Appear On The Earth
I was listening to a gardening programme on the radio at the weekend while driving back to Edinburgh along the East Lothian coast. It was the usual Sunday Q&A, this time broadcast from Northern Ireland where one woman, from the Ards Peninsula, asked why her foxgloves were eight feet tall this year. Most of the expert … Continue reading Flowers Appear On The Earth
Lughnasa
Was it only me, or did you feel as though July delivered about three months worth of life packed tightly into just thirty one days? Was it the early dawns and late sunsets? Was it the heat? Was it the pin-balling news: wildfires, world cup, Thai boys’ rescue, summits, protests, elections in Pakistan and Zimbabwe, … Continue reading Lughnasa
Gratitude
The way through the forest to get to the cottage on Crosby Lake is definitely not a road, but it’s not quite a dirt track either. Whatever you might call it, it has ‘gateway to wilderness’ written all over it in the form of chipmunks scurrying across the path, the hindquarters of deer disappearing into … Continue reading Gratitude