It’s the year of the blog for me. As I move to less time working, I move to more time writing – a quieter place for me, both metaphorically and literally – a space for reading, writing, being.
……. All week,
squalls, tattered mists:
alder, who unfolded
before the receding glaciers
first one leaf then another,
won’t you teach me
a way to live
on this damp ambiguous earth?
Kathleen Jamie ‘Alder’ The Tree House (2004)
