A year to live: One week

I haven’t written about this lately, but I’m still living as if this is my final year. To see what that does and to record what that feels like. I started it early last October and since then my work has simplified and our house has emptied out. So I thought, to continue this, I’d record an ‘ordinary’ […]

In Clitheroe: From a high hill

“Into my heart an air that kills From yon far country blows: What are those blue remembered hills, What spires, what farms are those? This is the land of lost content, I see it shining plain, The happy highways where I went And cannot come again.” Standing on a high hill in Clitheroe, north east […]