Sublime

“They aren’t blind,” my son says of moles, “they just can’t see.” The same could be said of humans.

There is a time in life when you expect the world to be always full of new things. And then comes a day when you realise that is not how it will be at all. You see that life will become a thing made of holes. Absences. Losses. Things that were there and are no longer. And you realise, too, that you have to grow around and between the gaps, though y

People who are attentive to the existence of animals have refined souls.

Big

buried deep within the meat of me my own bone-tree patiently waits.

mirth.

The Eagle and the Raven, and it was a historical novel by a writer called Pauline Gedge.