She watched him, captivated by her son’s wonder and reverence…He opened his palms and momentarily the fish hovered in the water, recovering from its strange ordeal, before darting off in a blink as if never there.
He picked up the photo off the bookshelf. Carefully pinching it by a corner, he gently wafted it to remove the film of dust that had appeared to have formed on where it was perched.
Continue reading “Matrilineal Lines”Watching these things with those from far off lands is like seeing them for the first time all over again through their eyes.
There it is, the hint of a dark shape moving swiftly beneath the creased surface of water. It’s so quick and so subtle at first you can’t be sure. You stare intently as a pulse of adrenaline courses through you like an eel. Then, there! A fin and a flank of taut, sheening grey skin – curving up through the surface before slipping away again as quickly as it appears. “DOLPHIN!” I blurt excitedly pointing like the village idiot.
Continue reading “Dolphins, ashes and a rainbow serpent”I felt like a bit of me died with Dave Greenfield’s passing – my rebellious, non-conformist past, my youthful grasp for sex, drugs and rock n’ roll.
5:15 am on a dark and stormy Perth morning – I stagger out of bed into my training gear and into the blinding light of the living room, collapse into a chair and pick up my phone that has been on charge overnight.
I read the single WhatsApp message from my friend Rebecca back in the UK and my heart plummets with dread. “Oh no Ben – so sorry to hear about Dave Greenfield. Terrible news (sad face emoji) xx.” Horribly awake and panicky now I quickly tap in his name into Google and there’s the headline on the Rolling Stone website “Stranglers’ Keyboardist Dave Greenfield Dead at 71, After Coronavirus Battle.” Continue reading “Loss, Love and A Lime Tree”
Unless the Buddhists are right, we only get one crack at this…
February the 16th and I [expletive-deletive]ing love celebrating my birthday. Continue reading “Let’s celebrate, it’s alright baby”
There is something intrinsically down to earth in the English outlook I know, still colouring the darker, greyer part of my spectrum.
Every two years the old country that usually lurks just beneath my psyche rises up to the surface as we journey back to the land of our origin – an imposing and barnacle encrusted island. Continue reading “Notes from the old country”
…liquid light, massive motion and cacophonous sound – it’s epic and spiritual…
As well as a fishing paradise, the South West coastal terrain leaves the eye and heart aching at its unadorned beauty. Continue reading “Down (the) South 2 – place of love”
There can be few places where serenity and the sublime can be found so readily as in WA’s South West
The key in your back begins to unwind as you make the turn off Bussel Highway towards Caves Road – but the excitement and anticipation is palpable too as the warm memories of holidays past come coursing back. Continue reading “Down (the) South 1 – Geographe joy”
We may talk the same language, but we speak with very different accents.
“Don’t be a c**t all your life!” one of Western Australia’s most respected wine writers rasped into my ear as I performed a particularly vigorous set of push-ups at the gym. Continue reading “Straddling the language barrier”
Most of the time, I feel like my sleeping and waking hours are spent in the dreamtime.
Moving from inner-city Manchester in the winter to suburban Perth in high summer was like staggering out of a dark, dank cave into dazzling sunlight – both figuratively and literally.
pomtification 