Notes home

Car after car, vans, lorries, double decker buses and a cyclist in red shorts pause five flights below our hotel window. Across the four lanes of traffic, another hotel; its lift slips up and down, down and back up. People drag luggage across the road, pass the...

This writing life

When I first started writing, I had no idea: about what I would write- novel, poetry, memoir- or how my life would change. For over 20 years I had been a probation officer, my day varied but dominated by deadlines. As an unpublished writer,  there were no prescribed...

Trees

When I was a little girl living on the edge of a small town, I used to climb the trees behind our houses. Until I read books by Robert MacFarlane, I thought it was an activity confined to childhood but no it is (or was?) something he enjoyed into his 40s. Trees were...

Unclaimed experience- Trauma

Several years ago I had a car accident. Until that point I had enjoyed driving because it gave me the sense of freedom and independence I now get from cycling. Prior to the accident, I drove a white Lambretta scooter which I loved despite falling off in the Pennine...

In Search of Colour

Autumn has been particularly beautiful this year. In our garden it began with the reds on our Virginia Creeper and has now mellowed to golds, yellows and oranges of the acer. Acer in our garden We often visit Batsford Arboretum at Moreton-in-Marsh but we tried the...