sharing small stories
‘A green thought in a green shade’. It’s a phrase from Marvell’s poem, The Garden, that has stayed with me since my English student days: to my mind a perfect distillation of the calming effect of spending time immersed in nature. This weekend, we stayed in a Yorkshire wood, at Jollydays with Canopy & Stars: a weekend of
There is a place where the wild flowers grow: where the paths are lined with fox gloves and red campion, with stitchwort and cow parsley. A place where woodsmoke curls into the clear air and laughter echoes through the trees. Somewhere that feels at once both wild and cosy; welcoming and solitary; where even the
Chasing light. I suppose, in a way, that all photography is about exactly that; it’s light that makes a photograph possible, after all. My favourite photographs are often those where light itself is the subject of the image. Pictures of light are the most fleeting of moments captured: if I see a shadow or a sunbeam, I
The ruby red carpeted staircase in our apartment building smelled of incense. Or perhaps it was expensive soap. As I ran down it each morning, on my way to buy breakfast from the boulangerie at the end of the road, I could almost imagine that I was a Parisian lady heading out early one morning, and