Dear Friends, Mick loved writing; not just songs, but in his diary, journals, articles, books… He loved this blog here…
God is A Rhythm
I was with a dear friend we were having breakfast, the first coffee of the day is always a good…
I’ve been thinking
I don’t usually get involved in these kind of posts or writings, batting it out there on the web. But…
The Spell
I was stood on the banks of a swollen river. The far bank was green and forested. Melt water flowing from mountains from somewhere away to my left; all come together at this place where I stood; the waters were clear and blue heaving and surging, fast and unstoppable. The river had its own speed the waves churned and rolled, carried within and on top of this force flowing past me, emerging elastic and yet unchanging.
My point of view was from a few feet above this force. As I looked across slightly to my right I saw the Golden World Cup trophy, the soccer one with the goddess of victory holding up a globe, the world, out in the middle of the river bobbing up and down, it shot by. I watched it sweep past moving further and further out of view heading for a waterfall I sensed, in retrospect, further along but out of view from where I stood
The Spell
I was stood on the banks of a swollen river. The far bank was green and forested. Melt water flowing from mountains from somewhere away to my left; all come together at this place where I stood; the waters were clear and blue heaving and surging, fast and unstoppable. The river had its own speed the waves churned and rolled, carried within and on top of this force flowing past me, emerging elastic and yet unchanging.
My point of view was from a few feet above this force. As I looked across slightly to my right I saw the Golden World Cup trophy, the soccer one with the goddess of victory holding up a globe, the world, out in the middle of the river bobbing up and down, it shot by. I watched it sweep past moving further and further out of view heading for a waterfall I sensed, in retrospect, further along but out of view from where I stood
Life in a Seagull Colony (Summer 2018)
Every time I step out the front door here on Brunswick street and breathe in that air, I never fail…
Death & Survival (May 25th 2017)
I’d made it across to Budapest after wandering across Italy and then up through and across the mountains of Slovenia…
Coming Down the Mountain March-April 2018
I’m back in the UK now, just going back over what I’d written before we left the Chalet, shame not…
Manners, feelings, black moods & black runs (Jan-March 2018)
Manners, feelings Black moods and Black runs Jan-March 2018 I thought I’d go up to the Nyon plateau get my…
News from the Mountain (Winter 2017-18)
It has been a remarkable few months, over half way through the season already, the chalet has been almost constantly…