It happened in a flash. A broad silver flank with a pink tinge lifted clear into river spray, a single twist, and a lunge towards a roaring steep slope of weir. The body jolted and slipped backwards into the white froth from where it had leaped.
He did leap high. I saw him. Atlantic salmon (Salmo salar), and most likely a male with all his freckles.
It’s mid November, late salmon-leap time here in Wales. These are the kings of anadromous fish, symlings of the great Arctic pelagos and the free ocean waves. They return thousands of miles ‘home’ using quantum magnetic sensing and smell-vibrations, navigating to their intimate place of spawning in the shallow streams of inland mountains. … Read more
This is intended to replace the language of decolonization in 'environmental' ethics, thereby leaving that to remain clearly in the domain of colonialism with respect to human political and cultural 'empire.'
BBC Radio 4 journalist recording School Strike for Climate 2019, Cardiff, Wales. Photo by me.
“I am not afraid of storms, for I am learning how to sail my ship.” – Amy, Little Women, by Louisa May Alcott
My daughter’s image flickers up on a wallmounted screen in our old Victorian attic flat. A fluff-puff ball of white is the first thing to see on this oddly modern intercom after she presses the doorbell.
“Hello pom pom,” I say through the speaker. She lifts her face from beneath an extreme bobble hat, the fish-eye lens warping her dark-rimmmed glasses, “Helllloooo.” Gravity pulls her lead-weight bag full of books over to one side, and her with it. … Read more
I have decided to publish the children’s story I wrote and illustrated, whilst as an inpatient and during recovery from PTSD, after my mother’s suicide. There is a recording too, at the bottom of the page. I hope you enjoy.
There once was a girl called Tinika, who lived with her grandmother near a beach called Huia.
Every evening, as the sun set, they watched the bright light begin its work at the Manukau Head Lighthouse across the bay. A strong beam of light would shine far out to sea, warning ships of the dangerous rocks and riptides. The light would sweep into their eyes and Tinika could see her grandmother smile. … Read more
The Consumer Print by SHOK-1 (click image for more information)
Pacman eats a power pill.
Any human being who continues to embrace the Anthropocene as good; to dominate natural processes without cessation, to encourage all others to do so, and to be blind/deaf to any other ways of being, being foolish.
Homo ~ human, though etymology stems from MAN. Hubris – excessive pride or self-confidence.
Mundus nemesis follows ~ it’s a correlating reflexivity:
Mundus ~ the world. Nemesis ~ revenge. A downfall caused by an ‘inescapable’ agent.
The world seeks revenge in that natural processes responding to Homo hubris will create hell for Homo hubris AND all other species. … Read more
Newts, Pond, High Vinnalls, Mortimor Forest. Photo by me.
Today, it is me. But we are all connected.
I deal with love in my work everyday, it’s my legal and illegal tender, my blood-currency and reason for cellular being. I know about its multi-fractured complications. Fuck, it’s hard sometimes, especially when you feel you’re going under… again and again and again.
When there’s no silence, there is just noise.
Yesterday, I stood on the footbridge and watched two kingfishers pierce the heart of this noisy city. Yet I can’t find the peace, even in my wildest places or memories or rainforests. … Read more
The statement is astonishing in three ways. The Lancet’s editorial team must be accepting of XR’s peaceful, though criminally disruptive actions, as legitimate. In turn, they confirm the world’s governments are indeed criminal in their failure to tackle the planetary crisis. … Read more
After the age of 7, I admit to never feeling comfortable with teenage boys. I avoided them, especially at night. Today, in my imagination, I was 12 years old again, in an old homework room at boarding school. Hot tears were running down my face from painful homesickness for my Mum and the wild I missed, whilst hugging a 14 year old boy from a care home, himself lovesick for a loving family he never truly had.
Lemn Sissay’s fearless memoir My Name is Why is a book of love by its absence. Lemn is the name given to him by his birth mother from Ethiopia, and means Why in the language of Amharic. … Read more
It’s Autumnal Equinox in the Northern hemisphere, a point where night and day bridge equivalence like giant balancing scales. There is no opposition. All is flow throughout our annual voyage around the Sun. Yet light and dark are opposites.
Time flows constantly like a river, woven through life and death, change and recurrence: The sequence of days, the cycle of months, the rhythm of seasons ~ years pass.
The unity of these opposites provide the tensions needed in nature for existence. Tension, in this sense, isn’t necessarily about identity or conflict. It is more like the taught string of the musical instrument called life process, to be played with exquisite results. … Read more