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Category / Essay / The Clearing
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A Welcome from the White Cottage by Liz Williams
‘Wales was an old crush I couldn’t shake. The solitude of its remote coastlines; an oldness that boasted permanence’
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Dent by Myna Trustram
lichen spatters hawthorn branches like paint on a studio floor.
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Mama, en route by Coco Lone Neal
When I was eleven years old, for four days my father and I walked and camped, naming the places we passed.
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Under Scythe-like Wings by Ian Grosz
…in its ageless song we felt Orkney’s long-absent presences.
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Brute Force with Art by Laura Parker
Working away quietly, the voles and mice would play about him, the curlews, peewits and crows ‘take him for granted.’
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The Bungalow by Ken Worpole
Grandma Elvin was always in demand as a fortune-teller, as well as being accomplished in other psychic gifts.
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Gulls Dreaming by Ann Lingard
She spreads her wings, tilting them to capture the full power of the lift.
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Wild Twin by Jeff Young, an extract
It’s seven o’clock on a Monday morning in March, sometime in the 1970s, and I’m not going to work.
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Hardy’s Knuckles by Estelle Phillips
Made from silica rich seawater squeezed out of plankton, flint formed in gaps between compacted chalk.
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The Machinery of a Hare by Tim Hannigan
I’ve seen plenty of hares since, but the sense of the uncanny at each encounter has never entirely faded.
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A Year of Cows by S. V. Morgan (Part Two)
When they are a little older, they respond in kind and groom their mothers, sometimes other cows too.
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Return to the Banyan Tree by Chandra Ganguly
Some friends of mine here in the West seem to make do. They make South Indian filter coffee at home, they grind rice and dal and make dosas and idlis.
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