Writing
Essays on place, culture and the spaces in between.
Comfortable At Being Uncomfortable
I’m sat silently, with just a coffee for company.
The sun is still rising, yet it is already baking my skin. A shimmer dances across the dark blue sea separating this Greek island from the next. Every so often, a gentle breeze carries the scent of a nearby fig tree. Fresh, sweet and quietly complex.
Coming Up For Air
I’m face down in the water, floating in rhythm with the waves. There’s a comfortable silence, broken only by the distant hum of a boat engine somewhere further out at sea.
Rain…I don’t mind
Usually, a rainy day would put me in a bad mood. Perhaps surprising, given I come from the north of England, but it’s never something one really looks forward to, especially when travelling in the hope of sunny climes.