Over the fields and far away from a pot-holed lane winding south from Sawley to Kegworth, the Soar is on the last leg of its northward journey to the Trent. On its east bank stand the cooling towers of Ratcliffe … Read More »
Through the pines. Over the dunes. And onto the beach, the light in constant flux … … an Atlantic north-westerly ripping in relentless. “I’m going out”, said J, pushing through piles of sand outside our bedouin tent. “I may be … Read More »
I spoke in Afloat in the Fens of a brace of pike spotted in a small mere, amid an otherwise banal housing estate on the edge of Thrapston and fed by the Nene. Here they are. Close by, another ambush … Read More »
Thursday. As yesterday I’m at Houghton Mill, now going downstream to St Ives by canoe. Half a mile in, the heat is drowsing. I lie back in the canoe but, camera in lap, tell myself neither heron nor snake shall … Read More »
Note to self: when sleeping overnight in car on industrial estate, avoid tight spaces behind lorry trailers. On Tuesday night I disregarded this elementary advice. Having left the Kings Arms shortly after posting Afloat in the Fens, Google Maps took … Read More »
It’s a scorching afternoon, still and sultry. A minute after putting in at Islip, I disturb a grey heron. It flaps a gawky take off across the river twenty metres ahead. Ten minutes after that I hear a tiny plash … Read More »
Needing spiritual refreshment after two months making repairs to my house in Sheffield (I let it out, and hand over the rent collected to my own landlord) and a recent flurry of posts on Julian Assange, I took the junior … Read More »
See also, Four days in Norfolk. Our cottage for the week in Great Snoring, four miles north-east of Fakenham in the north of one of my favourite counties. Not that we spent much time in it. The cliffs at Winterton … Read More »
It’s the last Thursday of June, the hottest day of the year so far. Patrolling the sky above Barton Broad a pair of common terns glide, hover and swoop for small fry. I’m in the shade of willow and alder, … Read More »
Don’t say ‘earwash’. I’ve penned this ode to not making a fool of yourself around these parts. Yesterday I drove to Toton Fields, bottom right on the map and a mile east of Long Eaton, to let the dogs out. … Read More »