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The Grand Local
Girls coiffed in big rollers read magazines. Sitting in hairdressers’ all around town. Waiting for lash extensions, manicures, make-up. Outside, bitter gusts blow rubbish down the street. Men wearing...
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Strutting cocks and thrusting spears . . .
A cock’s a-doodle-dooing, tail-feathers waving as he struts his stuff. ‘Look at me!’ he signals, to the world of hens. Chubby grey guinea fowl scurry around as one, moving hither and thither, to no...
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A taste of (Pygmies’) honey – and two of the lonely people
‘You look tired.’ Just what you want to hear when you’ve put on the face you keep in a jar by the door and stepped out to face the day. [There’s a bit of a Beatles vibe to this post because we’re...
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Surfin’ downtown for an organ and some blondes
A bronzed surfer dude grabs a board, races into the water. I’m already there, paddling out, rays on my back, tanning through the oil. Surf’s up – and before you know it I’m riding the crest of a wave....
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A bicycle, a gate and a lawnmower. Scratching beneath the surface of suburbia
I’m out on my bike. A gorgeous day – cold and crisp as a shiny new apple, fresh from the fridge. Wearing my helmet, of course, so can’t exactly feel the wind in my hair, but never mind. ‘Urrreugh.’ I...
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Of blue pens and high hopes
The village high street’s heaving and the wine bar’s been full a good while now. But it’s not yet ten o’clock. In the morning. A pudgy coach rolls its girth down the road, huffs and puffs into a...
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Sacrifice
Tonight could be emotional. I grab a handful of tissues, stuff them in my bag. Braving twenty-seven sets of traffic lights, we drive into Liverpool. Stow our car in the warm space beneath the circular...
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Patriotic thoughts, while on a level crossing
The train’s clattering out of the station with a bit of a wheeze. She may run on electricity – but she whines a lot. I’ve just been told, by a new British citizen, that this is the oldest electric...
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A phantom ship and a barbed wire fence
Eighteen years old. Standing at the window of my room in college. Staring out towards a low brick wall supporting a fence topped with barbed wire. Beyond it, the healthy green of a sports field. Above...
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It’ll all end in lawnmowers
‘I’m sorry,’ says the nice man, as he charges me £60 for a few minutes’ work. To be honest, it was worth it. Not least because it was all my fault. You see, I’ve been a bit irascible the last …...
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There’s a hole in my heart where Mary used to be
Saturday night. The last train home. The station’s bright and light. The sound of squiffy silliness peppers the air. There’s no menace, no riotous shouting. No spitting, or pissing, or – you know – any...
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‘I am half sick of shadows’
She’s forever enigmatic, the Lady of Shalott. A creation of Tennyson, inspired by Arthurian legend, she sits, day and night, weaving a wondrous tapestry. Although within sight of Camelot, her world is...
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The Ides of March
Beware, cried the soothsayer. Or was it the East wind? As I sit down to write this post – amid boxes of tiles, plaster dust and paint – I calculate that it’s XIII days before the Kalends of April. I...
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A couple of months in the ups and downs
An old English folk song inspired the title. And to cheer you into this largely pictorial post here it is, sung by Steeleye Span. Those ups and downs are NOT the kind I’m referring to – I’ve never...
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In a muddy field near Liverpool, he lies
It was a 45 minute drive. I pulled on wellies, ready to tromp through mud to take a picture. The least I could do, in the circumstances. I could see no obvious entry point so went to the office...
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In the company of twitchers
Solitary men. Mostly. Some in camouflage clothing. Cameras with long lenses. Tripods slung over shoulders. Patient people. Often, it seems to me, not quite sad, but resigned. And a closeness amid the...
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