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Author / Jon Woolcott
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Where the river flows out to the sea by Patrick Limb
But sometimes, somehow, places are in your bones.
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The Water’s Question / The Wind’s Answer by Phil Cope
This was the time of the fiction of early promises. The uncomfortable compromise between the necessities of finding paid work and of safety.
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Something of the Marvellous by Andrew Pastor and Patricia Barrett
Waves ebbing over shingle, breaking over rocks, swirling around reefs – all here inland.
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Simon Moreton at the Festival of Nature 2021
Simon Moreton discusses his book WHERE? in this film for the Festival of Nature
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GRIEF, PLACE, LANDSCAPE – Simon Moreton in conversation with Jeff Young
Our relationship to the landscape and the places we move through or live in has always fascinated me.
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GRIEF, PLACE, LANDSCAPE: For Sarah by Peony Gent
I actively thought nothing about the Fens until a long time after I left them. They were a place I only grew to see when they became coloured with the contrast of living elsewhere.
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GRIEF, PLACE, LANDSCAPE – A contradiction of sorts by Marie Smith
I knew no-one but I enjoyed myself nevertheless; I met people in bars, managed to negotiate the city with tips from social media. I seemed to be carrying myself on an adventurous spirit that I never knew I had.
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GRIEF, PLACE, LANDSCAPE – She Exhales by Maxim Peter Griffin
you could buy a bungalow under the sea wall for buttons – she used to bring the kids here – they used to go up Jackson’s and pour coppers in the slots
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New poetry by Andrew Forster
Up the beach a sandstone wall, crumbling
to pinkish powder, is reclaimed by tide
and weather. -
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Excerpt from The Open Places by Dominic Cooper
The idea of the Old Wood never quite lets go. Its shadow is always there, pressing imperceptibly at the margins of what is light and conscious in us.
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Eight West Dorset Church Porches by Alison Bunning and Virginia Astley
Stepping between diagonal buttresses
they climb the lichened steps
below the swallows’ nests and crenellations
to the shrine of St Wite. -
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Set in Stone by Sophie Pierce
This place feels like a receptacle of memory. A sanctum. I think it’s why these sites draw me, and why I need to make regular pilgrimages to them.
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