identities, journeys, fictions away from the roots
Tracks on path in Wendover Woods. May 2021, photo by Jessica Zarins I find myself in Wendover again. For the past five years I’ve been coming a few times a year to look after a sensitive cat when his human goes away. The village, the house, and of course the cat are all close to... Continue Reading →
The real world isn't what it screens. The real world is bird song from species you can't name; it's the fog your breath makes on Walpurgis Eve, the sun finally high enough at 7am to reflect the ripples of the river on the branches of the trees. Cows pooing while they fuck, spiders eating gnats... Continue Reading →
It's one of those mornings that is best suited for tea and a book in bed. It's the first day of spring, but after a week of unseasonable warmth and sunshine it feels like a return to winter. It's one month since my uncle's funeral, and two since he died. I have to get up... Continue Reading →
Branches 