'It was one of those autumn mornings which are devoid of melancholy, when the weather seems to be cleaning its house. A broom of wind sent the clouds above flying briskly and kept the fallen leaves scudding along the pavements, the trees looked as if they were being stripped to let the rains get at … Continue reading One of those autumn mornings.
Once upon a time, my grandparents lived here with my mother and uncle. Last week upon a time, I suddenly came across this house and realised it was the one. Now, the buildings and cars have encroached, but my family's stories keep the place apart.
From the Inn of the Tongue of Auvergne to the eleventh-century church of St Mary of the Castle (Our Lady of the Castle), Rhodes Old Town, Greece.
A Rhodian ceiling in search of symmetry.
Views from an East Anglian at Ippodamou 29, Rhodes Old Town, Greece. Facing due east on 26 September 2018.
'We have neither of us anything to tell; you, because you do not communicate, and I, because I conceal nothing.' In times of confusion, I often turn to Jane Austen for clarity and a pick-me-up. This quote resonated with me last week; it helped put a (full) stop to an ellipsis. Marianne Dashwood to Elinor … Continue reading Nothing to Tell
Long ago and not so far away, was my first home: 47 North Hill, Colchester, Essex, UK. It was there that my sister was born, and there that I was raised to realise that we are our stories. There, too, I learned to respect other stories, others' stories: to understand that history is always in … Continue reading My Back Yard