Walking into the Mist: Finding Clarity Through Autumn Fog
Monday morning, about 7.30am in Sussex. The air was cool, the dew clung to the grass, and a veil of…
Monday morning, about 7.30am in Sussex. The air was cool, the dew clung to the grass, and a veil of…
There is a strange kind of guilt that follows a writer on holiday. It’s like a shadow in your suitcase,…
So far in this series, I’ve spoken about the bold imagination of C. S. Lewis and the fearless cheek of…
I first read Charlie and the Great Glass Elevator when I was about twelve years old. I’d already seen Willy…
It’s a warm, sunny August day in Britain, which is unusual in itself. Normally, if you listen to the jokes,…
There are few things in life as simple yet as full of wonder as a dandelion clock. You know the…
If you have ever walked along a hedgerow in late summer, you will know the sight. Branches heavy with wild…
It started at 5am. One of those moments when your eyes open and you just know sleep is done for…
It’s Friday afternoon. My desk is relatively tidy for once. There’s a lukewarm cup of tea to in front of…
It’s Sunday. The kind of Sunday where the sky is undecided, the birds are unbothered, and the kettle boils a…