It's quiet here and in spite of the proximity to the road, it remains wild. Darker than usual, fresh leaves block the sky. At dusk the light fliters through at a rakish angle making long shadows and spotlighting the little blue flowers I have come to see.To get to . . .
Far from familiar meandering lanes, I am here in the midst of the dramatic lines of Sydney. Strong diagonals on the Bridge, soaring curves on the Opera House, tiny human forms a reminder of our presence. A woman tied to a harness sets out on . . .
I'm in Micky Macs place. It's been disturbed by party goers, doors open to the yard, a gentle sea breeze blowing through windows, cracked and broken. I once visited him here in his smokey room, walls blackened from the wood fire. I sat on a settle bed in a wollen blanket while he sat . . .
At first light, let the sounds and colours of the morning enter you. Rise when the animals take breakfast. Over coffee keep a steady hand on a long lens, chaffinches might be dropping by. Or go out into the frosty dawn, well wrapped up and remember your key this time! At the . . .
I'm just back from a relentlessly snowy Berlin. 10 times the size of Paris with an ever growing and developing creative community. Iconic monuments, grungy clubs and cafes, graffiti on everything, and always reminders of the Cold War. They may have tried to kill off diversity in the . . .
When would he arrive with breakfast? The snow had settled as it rarely ever does. The hours were passing and the icy grass was none too appetising. The mare heard the engine before the foal even realised that at last he was on his way. Bale after bale of warm hay, thrown over the . . .
Come in out of the cold ya poor craythur! Smoke from the fire and a kettle on the boil. The clock tick tocks. A lad sits at the counter. He dropped in "just for one" to his home away from home...... You know they don't serve "coffee" so don't even ask. This is where . . .