The grip of winter lingers, hard to shake off like a knot deep between my shoulder blades. A cold discomfort in my heartspace. Breathe into it, the therapist used to tell me when I sought her help to relieve the recurring unease, her warm, magic hands melting tension away. I…
3
I recognise the feeling now, my fourth cycling through this mark in the year, the third time while paying attention. A restlessness, an urge to sort…
2
I am sat at my laptop staring at the garden trying to find the words. The garden is teeming with life, but I am thinking about death. I get up and go…
2
I had planned to spend the last day of the year in the garden. Planting the last bulbs, sowing the first seeds. I woke up dreaming of the metaphors it…
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If the sun never sets on the British Empire, let me be of the realms of the moon. Nothing new has been said under the sun, but when I speak I find my…
I try to understand the wound. What was the cause of the land and people’s severing? Why did those who lived here begin to feel it was not enough, to…
It is May. The forerunner of summer. I walk round the garden under leaden skies, braced against the wind. There was no frost last night thanks to the…
Yesterday was the spring equinox. Today things have already teetered off kilter, each day visibly longer than the night past. The race is on to sow…
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These are the things my garden told me