The Wheel of the Year

The beginning of February is marked by Imbolc, a traditional Celtic festival which heralds the start of spring. I swear winter gets later and later each year, and there are few signs of spring yet here in the UK. Personally I love the cold dark seasons, so this suits me fine, but I feel for my friends who find the dark days disheartening.

Back when I lived in Sussex as a teenager I’d go walking across the downs in February looking for Imbolc snowdrops, but now that I live in London it’s less easy to find time to head into the countryside, although I do live near several parks and a nature reserve on the river Thames.  Read more

A Decade On…

I turned thirty this year, and uncharacteristically for me I both spoke about it and celebrated it a little bit. In the course of reflecting on leaving my twenties, I thought about some of the things I’d done over the last few years, and it turned out there were a lot of them.

As the end of the year creeps closer I always find myself reflecting on what I’ve done over the last twelve months and what I might like to do over the next twelve. However, in the words of Bill Gates, “Most people overestimate what they can do in one year and underestimate what they can do in ten years.” I really saw this clearly when I looked back over the last decade: there were a few patches of time in which I felt I wasn’t doing much, or moving forward with my life, but when I reflected on the decade as a whole I realised how much I’d got done.  Read more

A Novel Sunday

I wake up. It is still dark outside, but it’s never really dark in my London bedroom, with its double windows surrounding the space. Rolling over, I see that the cat has jumped onto my chair and I mumble at her incoherently: ‘smychairgeroff.

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