Pick a day, any day, and take the east road up to the moor. When you find the old place near the centre of the moor that is familiar yet unknown, put aside any lockdown stories you might have heard about discarded tents, crowded car parks and urban faces hungry for the wild. Take the north track and walk ahead of the lone birch tree that specks the horizon.
I love the slow drift from the second person imperative to the first person, the way your imagination teases meaning from this ancient place, finding deep relevance—the way you even imagine the steady, imperceptible action of erosion. The inclusion of the photography works well, too, and that’s something I’ve been wanting to do and will try soon—to merge photography and writing more emphatically.
This is beautiful and sad Lynne. The transience of our beautiful world and the transience of us! It has a mythical quality.
I love your use of tense here, and the inclusion of the photos is really sensory. X
I love the slow drift from the second person imperative to the first person, the way your imagination teases meaning from this ancient place, finding deep relevance—the way you even imagine the steady, imperceptible action of erosion. The inclusion of the photography works well, too, and that’s something I’ve been wanting to do and will try soon—to merge photography and writing more emphatically.
Really enjoyable read Lynne, lots of narrative variety, love it x
Beautiful and evocative and peaceful. Thanks.
I enjoyed reading this , Lynne. I felt the atmosphere of place, and the wonder you felt by looking and imagining. Lovely.