Landscape Painter, Life Writer, occasional Nomad in perpetual pursuit of a dream
How strange to find myself here, at this time of year, with no imminent plans to be anywhere else. The winter solstice is a special day in my calendar; the turning of the corner, the bringing of light and hope, the promise of warmer days returning (although in reality there are usually more cold ones …
Following my recent experience, described in the last post, here is the ghost story (almost entirely factual) which I promised to share. Comments welcome on this one! (Photo: Revisting Cornwall and my favourite childhood haunts, crossing the stream at Tin Pan Alley in 2016) Tin Pan Alley On a rutted farm track on the edge …
As weeks go, last week was a pretty decent one. The world breathed a collective sigh of relief that at least some sanity prevails across the pond, although it’s still a bit early to herald the dawning of the Age of Aquarius, which has seemingly been promised for as long as I can remember. I …
2020 has been a strange year for everybody. A mere inconvenience to some, a disaster to others (and sadly, of course, literally life or death to many), we have all learned to adapt and cope in our different ways. Many have gained from the experience as well as lost; I have learned to see my …
One of my greatest joys in life is finding food. Don’t laugh: Finding it in the fridge is good. If it’s actually made into something tasty, then that’s even better. What I mean, though, is finding it outside. Growing wild. On the hill, in the woods, along the shore, among the hedgerows. There is something …
I received a wonderful piece of news last week. Some good friends of mine have finally managed to sell everything they own, and are buying a boat in La Gomera. They have no further plans. They’ll be there in time to claim residency, before the Brexit fiasco hits and leaves the rest of us stranded. …
How blessed we have been, confined to place, to have found ourselves ‘imprisoned’ in such a naturally bountiful area with almost infinite possibilities for wild exploring. From rocky, salt-washed coastlines to inky, silent lochans secreted into upland folds; tangled birchwoods scattered with primroses, bluebells and now, chanterelles; still, calm waters where black-throated divers lead their …
My mother was a gardener. Not by profession but by choice. She had studied botany and knew all the Latin names but I think, above everything, she just liked an excuse to get her hands dirty.Dressed in the oldest of clothes, small fork in hand she spent every spare hour on the kidney-shaped kneeling pad …
Already, it is May. How strange, the way time moves. Sometimes it gallops; sometimes, it crawls. Occasionally it appears to do both at the same time. We have been in lockdown now for around seven weeks. We are still very lucky here in Assynt, in that we can get out and enjoy the wilderness without …
Today I sat down and put my virtual pen to paper. I realised with disbelief and some embarassment how long it is since I wrote anything here, and I vowed – I vow – to change my behaviour. From now on there will be regular updates, I promise. How strange that it should take something …