Writing

  But now and then comes an hour when the silence is all but absolute, and listening to it one slips out of time – Nan Shepherd I barely noticed this line in Nan Shepherd’s The Living Mountain until recently. It’s a book worth reading again, with observations you might not immediately absorb. She describes […]

  There’s an idea about nature we might call encounter. We encounter it, without complete understanding. Encounter it, outside the parameters of society. Encounter it, because we see forms of life not ours. It’s a good description, and there are books about it. Helen Macdonald’s H Is for Hawk, J.A. Baker’s The Peregrine, Elli Radinger’s […]

  There are many ways I like the outdoors and walking. High mountain treks, camping wild and on camp sites, woodland strolls and wild flower hunting. In my local area there’s a river I often visit, good for a surprisingly long walk, because it’s not the countryside. I saw a kingfisher there last week, in […]

  It sometimes happened this way, that the animal was born knowing it was in the wrong place, that its body was wrongly situated, that it was ruled over and defined by another creature – Polly Clark Freedom do I love, and the air over fresh soil – Nietzsche  Some years ago I decided to […]

Edale was the first Peak District area I knew. Initially with a post card, then for my first trip. The picture was exquisite. Not the big hills of the Lake District, but different curves with their own beauty. You have to approach the Peaks differently for photography, and light is particularly important.  I prefer bigger […]

Surely if wind can, if rain can. But which cannot be held never be held and is no flower – Cormac McCarthy And a river runs through it – Norman Maclean Who made the world, asks Mary Oliver in her poem The Summer Day. It’s a simple line I return to. She changes the usual […]

There’s a little known Canadian film called I’ve Heard the Mermaids Singing. I watched it many years ago. A friend, who was a Buddhist, said “it’s a nice film” in an emphatic way.

Look closely at trees and this year’s leaves are already there. It might be hidden but with others, there are buds in waiting, made from last year’s sun.

The walk starts with a choice. Turn left, go down a pathway worn in the grass. The first time I went there felt like an adventure. This is not the mountains, it’s urban nature but the feelings are the same, different in size not quality.

Religions don’t interest me but philosophy does. Not so much the scholasticism of Western endeavour, but elsewhere and from ancient time. Aslan tells the children in Narnia: no you don't understand, there's an old magic, much older, which always rules.