Tag: reading
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16 – 21 August 2026
Sunday ‘Cats eyes removed’ Spend the next 10 minutes trying to work out a short but less weird statement they could’ve put on the road sign. ‘Retroreflective road markings removed’ just doesn’t cut it. I assume the village kids here were both delighted and horrified in equal measure when the sign went up. Imagine Weegee…
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10 – 14 August 2026
Tuesday This morning the park is damp with dew. It’s light relief from the dry crunch the grass has been making recently. A regular I’ve chatted to over the years throws a ball for his rescue dog and the dog races to catch it. Every time I see this man his pace has slowed further.…
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8 – 16 May 2026
Catching up. Spring is a good time to go to Greece because all the wildflowers are out. The glossy blood-red poppies, chamomile daisies, lantana and rock roses, small purple scabious, tall wild mallow. They’re all over the archaeological sites and knee deep under the silver-green olive trees. The ice saints are in the news at…
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27 April – 1 May 2026
Monday Sunrise: 5:40am Pay last weekend’s sunshine tax with a litter pick. A row of stationary cars builds steadily beside me as they wait for temporary traffic lights to change. I feel self conscious. Am I weird? This is weird. I hold up cans and let them drain before crushing them underfoot. Pick them up…
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31 March, 8 – 10 April
Tuesday 31 March Sunrise: 6:38am “I think I love angels now. Maybe I believe in them, because of something I’ll tell you later.” This is from Devin Kelly’s newsletter about poetry. Something about it reads like dialogue from a novel. Feels like a book in waiting. As the train pulls into Southall, a woman leans…
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23 – 27 March 2026
Monday Sunrise: 5:56am Sunrise before 6am! Today the weak sun shines like a torch through gauze. There’s a low mist at the Iron Age earthworks, and I reach for some deep connection to the past—some whisper from the ancients. But this was never my past and it’s Monday morning and all I can hear is…
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16 – 20 March 2026
Monday Sunrise: 6:12am A practical dawn: no delight, no drama. Light before 6am, enough to be able to cross the room without your hands outstretched. I’m here for the early train. On the platform a lone magpie flies ahead. I tell myself to stop – you can’t live your life ruled by birds and superstition.…
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9 – 22 January 2026
Monday Sunrise: 7:54am On the walk to the wood I feel my fingers smart as I press the soft pad of a fresh blister. Yesterday I cut back a large shrub with a handsaw and clippers. The magazine said late winter is the best time to cut it back—but I was in a T-shirt and…
Walknotes 
