commuting
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The shortest straightest line rarely beckons
There’s a stream that runs by the office where I work. The Winterbourne, its name a clue. It runs high and fast when the South Downs saturate and the chalk aquifers deep inside overflow. It’s an indicator of conditions on the Downs and it helps me decide my cycle commute. The office is in Lewes,…
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Out of the Shadows
Paths past garden gates, those neglected places where stinging nettles and wild flowers thrive. Next to a railway line and over a stream that is obscured from view throughout town; behind the houses, buried under streets, channeled through concrete, feeding into the Ouse somewhere in the Railway Land. It’s running high and fast now…
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Turn Turn Turn
Sneaking out of and into the city in the dark and half light. Looking for gloves and the right route. Lights plugged into wall sockets and USB ports. An increased interest in the weather forecast. The rush of starlings overhead as they head for the fields. A change in wind direction. Chilled air snatching at…
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Bookends
I love a commute that initially sets off deliberately in the wrong direction and then loops almost back home some time later, before reluctantly turning for work. Between me and work there is a chunk of coast, a river valley (three if I venture west or further east before heading for the office), some woodland…
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The long way round
Shutting the front door whilst the nearly full moon still hangs over the city to the east I head west. The sun is yet to break cover. Where the sky meets the sea is pink and orange, a hint of what is imminent. I’ve got just under three hours before I need to be at…
the man from icon 