The end of an work is tinged with relief that the effort is over, the fear that the effort has been worthless and the sense of loss now the effort is no longer necessary. Advertisements
A fresh leaf of balm has scalloped edges, fine fur and a green that is not as acid as the fruit of the lime, nor as dark as the leaves of the lime, but releases an essential vapour that is as refreshing as … Continue reading
The wind hits my body, pushing me to the right with a steady force, before suddenly relaxing and I feel the shock of moving slightly leftwards involuntarily. The pressure has been even on my torso, but feels stronger on my arms … Continue reading
I can feel the residual heat radiated from the kettle on the back of my hand as I reach for the water jug.
I rub the tip of a rosemary branch between my fingers and smell the sweet, pungent oils released.
It is the grey time, before the sun has risen, but well after dark. I can hear indistinct movement through the fabric of the building, voiced in gentle grinding tones or the occasional faint, but sharp, knocking. The clock on … Continue reading