Hi Mike. No, I didn't know that. It must give you a whole universe of rich, under-reported memories. Such a wonderful, self-contained place. I've been a bit of nomad myself. Started out in a sort of march land on the south Wales border and travelled around ever since, listening to accents and places. Even the wrens have their local dialects :-)
Well, blow me over, fall me down! I have not been a traveller except the one journey to England some years ago and now I have been to Kirkby Stephen on a chilly Melbourne morning. Not only been there today but down the centuries. A time traveller. All in the space of a cuppa. You are a magician, David.
'All the great travelling players who performed in the marketplace had a backcloth of swift.' So evocative, I love this connection through time, place and nature.
You’re kind of an archaeologist of the tiny details of life. I love the the way you present the North of England to our eager ears, David. I echo others’ recognition of the magic that informs your portraiture. Have a wonderful small journey seeing what finds you. I shall be awaiting! Keep well!
Hi Linda. Thanks for taking the time and for your kindness. I did smile to think that my weird way of looking at things might have refracted your vision too, for a moment.
Such a lovely piece, a feast for the imagination and a pace the ears can sink into. The accent is a welcome memory of my dad’s near-enough home near Durham. Thank you.
Hi Kimberly. Oh yes, I’ll have been taking coals to Newcastle for you :-) That’s the great thing, writing here - always people ahead of you on one path or another.
I wish you wonderful adventures David, filled with astonishment and learning...
"Besides, it is fearsome early in the morning. The heavy July air still carries the sticky dew which it failed to sell to the restless night fields, bereft of their flower-rich hay." I loved this, I loved it all, I always do, but this, after my day of battling unusually damp meadow grass, a dew that won't lift due such humid days, calmed blue air and aching bones alike. Now, I will sleep with the sweet song of swift and the learned discourse of Jackdaw - thank you ❇︎
Ah, Susie, you are a rock :-) I’m not going anywhere much geographically speaking but I’ll see what the cracks and crevices here have to offer and report back.
What a lovely and very evocative piece of the Old North to leave us with for your summer break. Oh, you've captured the essence of Kirkby in that Cumbrian jackdaw chatter! I love the way too that you've given the birds an immortal role - actors who've known these historic nooks and crannies forever. Hope you'll spend the next two months storing up magic for us!!
Wonderful as always. I love the thought of jackdaws, going about their lives, living as they please. As humans, we're accustomed to thinking of ourselves as so important in and to the world. The jackdaws know better.
Ghosts. I envy you a millennia of built history to anchor you somewhere in the stretch of human time. I lived in London for a while and found it both fascinating and eerie how present the past felt in certain places, how many visible layers were actively coexisting. Here, it is different. Thank goodness for birds, otherwise how would we know where we are at all? May your sensory well be filled. xo
Looking forward to your return. Happy listening and seeing into the depths of the Earth’s soul.
an airbrushed whisper of wilderness. Love.
Hi Mike. No, I didn't know that. It must give you a whole universe of rich, under-reported memories. Such a wonderful, self-contained place. I've been a bit of nomad myself. Started out in a sort of march land on the south Wales border and travelled around ever since, listening to accents and places. Even the wrens have their local dialects :-)
Well, blow me over, fall me down! I have not been a traveller except the one journey to England some years ago and now I have been to Kirkby Stephen on a chilly Melbourne morning. Not only been there today but down the centuries. A time traveller. All in the space of a cuppa. You are a magician, David.
Thanks Barbara, that made me laugh out loud :-) Glad you could make the trip.
'All the great travelling players who performed in the marketplace had a backcloth of swift.' So evocative, I love this connection through time, place and nature.
Thanks Clare, that is kind. Yes, it felt a bit over-ambitious :-) But sometimes it’s fun to take a leap!
I think you nailed it.
I will miss your words and be eagerly waiting for their return in September.
That’s kind of you, Karen. I’ll see what I can dig up :-)
Another beautiful and evocative piece... I love your writing, David! Thank you!
Thanks, DANA. That’s kind of you.
You’re kind of an archaeologist of the tiny details of life. I love the the way you present the North of England to our eager ears, David. I echo others’ recognition of the magic that informs your portraiture. Have a wonderful small journey seeing what finds you. I shall be awaiting! Keep well!
Thanks. Have a good summer :-)
Thank you so much for the joy, insights and shifts in perception your words offer
Hi Linda. Thanks for taking the time and for your kindness. I did smile to think that my weird way of looking at things might have refracted your vision too, for a moment.
Such a lovely piece, a feast for the imagination and a pace the ears can sink into. The accent is a welcome memory of my dad’s near-enough home near Durham. Thank you.
Thanks, Erin, that is kind. Isn’t it marvelous how evocative a tiny change in pronunciation can be :-)
That first paragraph 🥹
Enjoy your hiatus ✨🕊️
Thanks. I’ll see what finds me and hopefully have some tales to tell.
Wonderful, and painfully true. I close my eyes gladly and often, only to discover worlds so much more alive and immediate.
Hi Kimberly. Oh yes, I’ll have been taking coals to Newcastle for you :-) That’s the great thing, writing here - always people ahead of you on one path or another.
I wish you wonderful adventures David, filled with astonishment and learning...
"Besides, it is fearsome early in the morning. The heavy July air still carries the sticky dew which it failed to sell to the restless night fields, bereft of their flower-rich hay." I loved this, I loved it all, I always do, but this, after my day of battling unusually damp meadow grass, a dew that won't lift due such humid days, calmed blue air and aching bones alike. Now, I will sleep with the sweet song of swift and the learned discourse of Jackdaw - thank you ❇︎
Ah, Susie, you are a rock :-) I’m not going anywhere much geographically speaking but I’ll see what the cracks and crevices here have to offer and report back.
What a lovely and very evocative piece of the Old North to leave us with for your summer break. Oh, you've captured the essence of Kirkby in that Cumbrian jackdaw chatter! I love the way too that you've given the birds an immortal role - actors who've known these historic nooks and crannies forever. Hope you'll spend the next two months storing up magic for us!!
Thanks Vanessa. You’ve lived these places well, for sure. I’ll go and see what finds me and report back :-)
Wonderful as always. I love the thought of jackdaws, going about their lives, living as they please. As humans, we're accustomed to thinking of ourselves as so important in and to the world. The jackdaws know better.
Thanks Carri. Aren’t they just the best antidote :-)
Ghosts. I envy you a millennia of built history to anchor you somewhere in the stretch of human time. I lived in London for a while and found it both fascinating and eerie how present the past felt in certain places, how many visible layers were actively coexisting. Here, it is different. Thank goodness for birds, otherwise how would we know where we are at all? May your sensory well be filled. xo
Hi Carmine. What a wonderful image - you wandering around London like some magical metal detector, sniffing out all the thin places.
Indeed! ☺️