He had no idea what had woken him. But now awake he needed to pee. He shuffled to the bathroom; hands outstretched before him like he was playing a game of blindman’s bluff. He now stood in a world of grey that was neither night nor day. A monochrome scene. All objects reduced to aContinue reading “3:27 am.”
Category Archives: writing
16th June. Coarse fishing on our rivers begins again. Sharing my swim today was a kingfisher. He was no more than an arm stretch away. Together we watched the mists rise and the trees turn to gold. We fished side by side. Brothers of the Angle. He, a sleek flash of electric blue; me, anContinue reading “Beep!”
149 to go!
Today’s frosty riverside ramble produced a new world record. A pleasant forty minute winter walk actually took two hours. Not that I am complaining. For whilst Sherlock inspects and pee’s on every single molehill; I am able to watch the wildlife and immerse myself in it’s splendour. To quote Claude Monet (some bloke who couldContinue reading “149 to go!”
2021. A year that began with a perfect sunrise family swim at Sidmouth. Dancing on frosty stones to warm up; complete with an audience of well wrapped onlookers and “caterwauling” gulls. A dawn full of promise and positivity after the debacle of 2020. Invigorated. Life is good The year ended with a walk under aContinue reading “Another Year”
Lake Of The Dead.
It is a few minutes after five o’clock on the last day of July 1991. The air is still, humid. That stifling torpor of mid summer lethargy. Slowly, I am making my way along a narrow spit that juts out into the lake. I am already sweating and the sun hasn’t even begun to lightContinue reading “Lake Of The Dead.”