” I feel more and more as though I belong to the before times – the 1970s and 80s, the watery technicolour of Crackerjack, disaster movies and flares, of kids under coats in seatbeltless cars, of drunk drivers and questionable personal politics.”
I begin to find that the observations I have heard my mothers and mothers-in-law make over the years are now my own – I too have had enough of cooking and Christmases.
A new course of creative writing workshops at Crediton Arts Centre might be just the help you need to start getting your story on to the page.
“It was brutal, but wasn’t that what nature was, what we were, made brutal by our drive to survive?”
“We clamoured to be told the stories she had told us a thousand times before”
“Once we’ve parted ways and I’ve set off around the fields, trying not to notice the stakes hammered in around the perimeters of both fields, I feel the jolt of reality. To walk here wouldn’t be possible for much longer – once the fence was up, it was up. It wouldn’t be coming down again. Each fence post suddenly feels like a line drawn in the sand.”
‘As an adult I’ve always likened running to ironing – it’s just showing off. I’ve looked at runners and thought, but what are they actually running away from?’
When we reach the station we discover the Station Tea Room. We push open the door, hovering, masked, in the doorway. “Can we come in?” we ask Dominic and Roger, working at a table. “Of course”, they reply, smiling.
“For small creatures such as we, the vastness is bearable only through love.”
As the light changes I begin to think about the big stuff and Carl Sagan’s wisdoms come to mind.
‘One day Theo handed me a roll of electric fencing. “Hold this for a second, Nels,” he said. “You won’t connect it, will you?” I ask. “Nah, course not,” he says.’
“Sorry,” the woman says to her invisible friend, murmuring hello to the dog as he lifts his head to her in greeting, “it’s just someone holding the gate for me.” Together apart. Together, together again. Sort of.
The swallows return and we host our first gathering in the garden, leading me to reflect on what makes it possible to make leaps of faith.
The natural world bounds and cartwheels back to life, bringing opportunities for much-missed connections.
A reflection on our relationship with the natural world in light of a proposed development on a green field site in Sandford
February turns from darkness to light as the days lengthen, life begins to push up out of the earth and we find reasons to have hope.
So this is ChristmasLike most of us, I navigate and feel comforted by the traditions that we wheel out at this time of year; the
Learning to embrace imperfection in life and writing
Like most dog walkers, we regularly walk the same ways with Cooper. One of these is a there-and-back again which runs along the footpath alongside
Sandford is a village in mid Devon. It lies 2 miles north of Crediton and 9 miles north west of Exeter and is one of
It isn’t always possible to see that things are changing, it can happen so gradually that it’s hard to detect, or you’re so immersed in