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Above Ringstead Bay
It’s not quite 8am and the sun is already strong; we’re in an early heatwave – this week, temperatures will reach the highest ever recorded in the UK in May. I’ve come out here early to try to beat some of that heat, but I can already sense that the walk, even if not long,…
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The confessions of a walking addict
Walking is taking over my life. It has become my default: a source of basic enjoyment, escape and exercise all rolled into one. I’m not alone in that, of course, but the more I do it, and the more I write about it, the more it looms everywhere, like one of those things you see…
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A hundred days of sunshine (or so it seems)
After complaining enough about those long days of rain in winter and early Spring, it’s only fair to recognise these long days of sunshine through later Spring. Long days of unusually deep blue skies, often cloudless, or if there are clouds, they appear so faint, the most delicate of feathers, or the slightest smudge of…
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Easy like Sunday mornings
Two Sundays. Two earlyish morning starts, one for a walk, the other on my bike. Sunny mornings with clear blue skies, but still cool, particularly in the shade – the sorts of days where you never quite get the right temperature, too hot one minute, too cold the next. My walk: in Jane Austen country,…
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Easy inspiration and holding onto days like these
The joy of writing about being outside is that I generally don’t have to think too hard about what I want to write. My subject matter is there, all around me, whatever I find to focus on or what sets me thinking in a given moment. Of course, some days are more difficult than others:…
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Pushing my boundaries through a staccato spring
I’m still waiting for spring to kick fully into gear. It’s felt staccato so far – high notes of days of real warmth, when colours are vibrant and full of new life, punctuating otherwise lows of cold, bitter winds from the north, and grey, sullen skies reflected in dull, barren patches of countryside. With that,…
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Searching for purpose on commuter Groundhog Days
I’ve never been a fan of commuting, but the last few weeks have been a particular chore. Where every day I go in – and fortunately I have to do so less than many – I get some sort of what the f*ck moment as I arrive at Waterloo and prepare to disappear into the…
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Scaling the highs and hitting the oh-so lows
It’s easy to forget that this time last week I was where makes me happiest – the mountains – doing the activity that gives me the biggest highs – skiing. Easy, because from those highest of highs, both physical and mental, this has been a really low week. A drag myself through the gutter kind…
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Finding mountains in places unexpected
I miss the mountains when I’m in England. I miss the scale of a giant landscape that isn’t criss-crossed by lattice works of hedgerows and patches of woodland. I can enjoy a hike around Box Hill, or Leith Hill, or Holmbury Hill, or any of those little lumps that make up the Surrey Hills near…
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Little by little, spring is on its way
Last week I thought we’d reached peak bleak: a couple of days of sideways rain, paths turned from mud baths to full sludge and swamp, a cycle on repeat of wind, rain, mud, walk because you don’t want to be stuck inside all day, find clean and dry clothes until you run out of them…
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Two days by the sea
It’s that period of not quite winter and not quite spring; still cold, but tickles of warmth in the air, days getting perceptibly longer, enough to make you think that the worst is over for another year. No-one has told the rain yet, though. Another day, more rain, clouds straining and appearing to sink into…
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A hundred days of rain (or so it seems)
Leaving home this morning, I think this might be the day we manage without rain. There are flashes of sun and a warmth in the air; maybe I won’t even need my coat. Then – a whisper of cooler wind across my cheek, grey battleship clouds moving into position above, and a scatter of raindrops…