Pandemic journal 24/3/2020 — a time travelling walk after dawn…

24 March 2020 Dear Pandemic Reader,Shall we let the calendar blur into a whirl of days? Dress up at night for our dreams? Sleep like perambulating beauties outfitted in day wear? Love, In social isolation for who knows how long? I confess... I long for the touch of a friend, the hug of a child… Continue reading Pandemic journal 24/3/2020 — a time travelling walk after dawn…

Present Perfect Progressive Tense (cataloguing gratitude)

A September weekend: strolling through sunlight and the heat of summer returned. Two days and three nights unfold with the up and down flow of a rusty sun salutation.

A Feminist Flaneure’s Passerelle

Wherein a woman walks and muses. The shape of the woods sounds like birds. Writers abound. The stories cross oceans and wave. All this to try to stem the tide in her head of climate catastrophe and the rise of authoritarian regimes here there & everywhere. Keeping a world on self-destruct at bay.