It has been so long, since February I think. The longest period of inactivity on this blog since I started. I keep seeing sporadic visitors, people looking in to see if I have been back, or perhaps just the random noise of the internet. How many of you are still out there wondering where it has all gone?
I’m still here, though going through a writing tunnel at the moment, a tunnel where the guy with the candle hasn’t bothered yet to make an appearance, he may still be there, with a box of damp matches and wondering if I have a spark to help out. All I have been doing recently is looking for paid work and taking pictures. A visual narrative going on if nothing else.
These long days, clear nights recently, I look up at the stars and get drawn in. I’ve been trying to get some good pictures of the night sky, with mixed results. My camera is good, I am just still getting used to all it can and can’t do for me. And sometimes just looking is a good option, I enjoy the sunset, as the air cools and clears and the first evening stars become apparent in the sky. Last year the council here changed the street lights to LED downlights, making for a much better view and better pictures.
Dartmoor provided a diversion, as did a trip to Austria, I need to catch up on all these trips. To kick-start my writing again. Although the Dartmoor image may be a little macabre.
This is it, at the moment. Fragments and images, are proof of my passing through all these places. The footsteps in the sand.
Complete From Before, Line of Termination
Dividing days, hours, moments
passing into night, time and yesterday.
Seen from space, everything,
and so by scale, nothing.
Delicate intricate, nothing.
Crossing forwards, racing time,
swinging again away, defined
by the movement, by perception.
The moments we define as
the sun crossing our arc.
In the sky, long night crossing
into a low slung sun slow day.
This is where we cross North
into South, midwinter crossing
some peak and gathering the world,
gathering the details, the people,
the time frozen second that ticks
to life a passage of seasons.
See where we end up, this was written as we crossed the longest night. The turning point of winter. Next month we cross back into shortening days. Time flies and we struggle to take the moments we need. Take care to take some time.
A walk through the world between places 