My dear old Dad loved Christmas and did his very best to provide a magical morning of surprises under the tree. During the years when he was left alone with four girls under the age of 9, his inner child often went shopping for the kind of presents that any small boy would . . .
Darkness, damp nature, gnarled old trees. I'm no witch, but looking into this leafy pool, I fall under its spell. Then down onto the woody undergrowth with me. And the power of the place, the magic! The more I travel with no agenda, the more the lens captures what I'm feeling and living . . .
On days like this I open the curtains slowly so as not to startle the neighbours. Sure enough, when I do, there are five rabbits frolicking in the early morning frost just a few steps away. A good start to Christmas morning, when I often remember the giddy excitement of my childhood. . . .
Christmas is here! I hope you find some solace in retreating a little from reality. Adventure stories and films, riding a one horse open sleigh across the snow, . . .