Continue reading “Three Trees and a Rock”
At the top I perched on the large rock for a rest and was unexpectedly hit like a ton of bricks by a thought.
Continue reading “Staying Upright”
There was no manual. Most of it was self-explanatory, since the basic shell is familiar, but it’s those joints, and figuring out which screw goes in what order, that causes angst.
Gardening is in my genes (I nearly said greens!).
Flat. Featureless. Unfathomable.
So began the shape of danger which morphed over the years into different, more recognisable forms. My bogeyman became variously a thief, a rogue, a soldier, a natural disaster; a noxious substance and then a malaise of the heart.