Monday 18 October 2010

After Newton

I just write a sentence while a whole dictionary of words and myriad of ideas stretches out ahead of me.

Sunday 20 December 2009

Cold and damp

Viking, Forties, Cromarty
SW 6 to gale 8, light showers
Cold and damp – like the socks found in trainers after cross-country run

Forth, Tyne, Dogger, Fisher
W Gale 8, rain at first
Cold and damp, like Sunday’s muddy football boots left by the door

German Bight, Humber, Thames
NW Severe gale 9, squally showers
Cold and damp – like Tuesday’s rugby kit dropped in the hall

Dover, Wight
NW Storm 10 later, rain
Cold and damp – like Monday’ swimming trunks forgotten in the car

Portland, Plymouth, Biscay
N 6, drizzle
Cold and damp – like the stack of waterproofs hanging by their hoods

Sole, Lundy, Fastnet
W 5, light showers
Cold and damp - like the grubby golf towel clipped to the bag

SE Iceland
W 2, sunshine, clear
Warm and dry – like all the clean kit ready for next week

BBC My Story

I have entered the BBC's My Story competition with "Running High"

Saturday 3 October 2009

Laptop cat

I’m sad and lapless. There’s twittering not purring, and friends are on facebook. Please tell them laps are for cats not laptops.

Sounds, smells, subways and statues - the 2nd City of London Race

Looking down from St Paul’s they could see matchstick men in purple and green in Paternoster Square. Looking up we could see the sun glinting gold on the top of the Portland stone column in the square. There was a shepherd and his sheep by the start.

It was surreal to be running around a city closed for the weekend but bustling with festival atmosphere and surprised tourists. We went south towards the river, avoiding an unexpected crane and the out of bounds “survivors will be disqualified” dual carriageway. Down towards the wibbly-wobbly bridge past clattering skateboarders. Along the river bank and a chance to take in quick glimpses of boats dressed overall for the Thames festival. Then slightly puzzled by going up steps to a control at an underpass junction. But this was barely a warm up for the level challenges to come.

Out onto a street to be buffeted by clown-clad revellers with party blowers and jangled by pneumatic drills. Through metal gates into another world - and the tranquillity of the Inner Temple. Dodging slow drifts of students doing a treasure hunt. Back out to labyrinth-like passageways with geometrical courtyards. This is how I remember last year and this is fun!

But here comes the Barbican. A total of five different levels apparently. Going up to get down via disinfectant-smelling stairways. Footsteps pounding out loud as we ran over a metal grating to reach a stretch of the London Wall - did the Romans really build that bit? Notice the planner standing here, maybe watching for transgressors. Up and up steps I’d just descended to get across a walkway, bemusing people hanging around chatting; later I found out you could get through by going under. Past some amazing architecture in this shiny, angled landscape. Was beeped at by a bike, and helped and heckled by builders: “they went that way, love!” Got dizzy running around the round Museum of London but escaped and found my way to the Old Bailey.

I like this sort of puzzle. Whilst I miss the smell of conifers and the texture of the forest, there are no depressing depressions or tricky pits. This is a landscape of glass and stone with elegant sweeping steps and stunning statues. I’ve learnt to spot the steps and subways, now I must judge when to go up and when to go round!

The smell in the city has become curry and coffee and the final few short legs seemed to have more uncrossable barriers than ever to test our weary brains. At last two mirrored statues have the final control sandwiched between them. After the finish, we sit and reflect by the cool water trickling down the Paternoster Square column. The sheep and the shepherd haven’t moved – they’re made of bronze.

Tuesday 8 September 2009

Cathedrals and Galleons

Suzie and 6-year old Will are pedalling around N America by now. This piece is about Suzie's momentous decision to sell everything and travel.
http://lindastories.wordpress.com/2009/09/08/cathedrals-and-galleons/

Friday 4 September 2009

Fib poems

High
Dry
mountains
but monsoon
in India as
air climbs over Himalayas


Dull
Green
Hairy
Ovoid shaped
Cut in half its art
What is it? It’s a Kiwi fruit


Too
Short.
Can’t see
Performance,
so watch instead tall
lady’s phone as she records it