How one obscure Bristol back-alley runs through two thousand years of history: from Romano-British settlements, to Friars, pauper’s burial grounds, cutpurses and wasted Walnut trees.
How a once-derelict patch of ground, is helping to galvanise a community in one corner of South London.
Squashed gothic churches, beheaded saints, mysterious alleyways and a preponderance of dustbins.
When I was growing up my parents were second-hand booksellers in Bristol. As well as providing ready access to lots of books, it also meant that I got my hands on all kinds of bookmarks.
I recently rediscovered a box filled with some of these cardboard treasures that I once collected.
It doesn’t take much to make a familiar place unfamiliar. A change in the weather – rain, bright sunshine, or more dramatically, snowfall or fog can all do it. Smells too – who hasn’t found themselves aware of sniffing more consciously than normal when drains are blocked, or there’s a whiff of barbecue, bonfire or worse in the air?
And then of course there are a place’s distinctive sounds.
At the inaugural Balham Literary Festival, a gathering of Nature Writers, Landscape Writers and Writer writers came together to discuss the state of the natural world. Here’s my report on what I saw and heard.
Dinosaurs, lakes, trees and ice cream make Crystal Palace Park a perfect place for children and angsty Dads to drift awhile and lose themselves. That is, until you try the maze.
I recently went in search for an ‘anonymous suburb’.
This is what I discovered.