find your voice & tell your story
Our house has a magnolia tree in its garden. I didn’t know it at first- we moved here in November, the garden cold and sleeping. One March morning, bleary-eyed, pulling up the kitchen blind, I discovered a cascade of delicate pink petals fluttering against a blue sky. I gave an involuntary gasp, my heart lifted
I’ve been thinking about why I write. Almost a decade after I started blogging, I find myself wondering why I still show up in this space and commit my words to the screen, sending them out into the ether. I suppose I’m guided by E.M. Forster’s ‘only connect’, and the hope that my words will
The children went to bed disappointed. The weather forecast had promised snow, but the sky, leaden though it was, did not deliver. As they slept even my hopes were fading, but flakes began to swirl around the streetlight outside the window. We fell asleep with a dusting and woke up to a blanket, its arrival
