has the well run dry?


The rational aspect of my lifelong curiosity has brought me to really knowing and understanding very little, and so to faith!…mixed with equal parts love and hope. Occasionally in me I’m aware of the endless warm flow that is the relationship between the three. This experience is not something I can conjure up. Its an undeserved gift, given when and for as long as I’m blessed to receive it. I believe this is a glimpse of what connects us all, all of creation, without which this rational journey would not have begun.

In an empty church, with the chairs neatly lined up in anticipation, I wonder about those who will gather there. Some form of faith brings them. Unsure, afraid, wanting reassurance, most of us spend years chasing our tails, seeking some form of solace.
I am encouraged these days to seek a more contemplative life. The rational chatter continues unabated, but slowly I’m learning to let it go, pay it no mind, and rest in an ever deeper part of myself.

High Rock


Translated literally, the name of this house is High Rock, which is quite the metaphor, isnt it? All shuttered up, with its damp-stained balcony and its forbidding gate, it looks a bit folorn.
I am spending a few days with my dear friend Tina, who lives in her bar that is tucked under a cliff, at one end of the beach, in a little town named Meschers, situated on the mouth of the Gironde river, in the Charente-Maritime area of France.

Yesterday I went for a walk, and as best as I could, I was following the shoreline. ‘Haute Roche’ is on a road that was the nearest I could get at that point. I presume that it and its neighbours enjoy a commanding view of the sea on the other side. Desirable residences all…
I eventually found my way back to the beach and Tina’s Cafe, just in time to behold this…

“…taste and see that the Lord is good…”
Every day, every moment, we can be thankful for God’s glorious creation. I pray, Lord, that I am.

thanksgiving day!

I’m becoming a keen student of city parks. They are so vital in these densely populated, hard surfaced warrens we infest.
The better cities have taken great care to ensure that whatever they are continually evolving into, they include swaths of nature, areas of relative fresh air and quiet. Children can play, couples can woo,  dogs can be walked and sometimes let free, old folks can slowly but surely take their daily exercise, joggers can jog, families can picnic, frisbees can be hurled back and forth…..

Especially during the working week, they can seem gloriously underused! So though they are clearly not wildernesses, they can be peaceful oases where nature-at-work predominates.

So today I’d like to thank city planners. Theirs is a profession that borders on the disreputable, as the blame for the dark side of urban dwelling is so often laid at their feet. Yet at some point in the early days of our favourite cities, it was decreed that there would be no unbridled building on these certain plots of land, but rather they were to be left as they are.

In real estate terms, the traders, landlords and vultures of today would be unable to allow themselves such luxury. Can you imagine how much the building land value of Hyde Park, Bois de Boulogne, Central Park and such might be?……….the deal of the millennium!

So thank you for city parks, and thank you to all the birds, beasts, trees, plants, earth, rocks and water for continuing to do what you do!

lost turret?..monolith?…unmarked grave?…

perhaps it’s the top of a large house, the rest of which is buried underground…
or did it fall off the back of a lorry?…
there’s no writing on it…no forwarding address…no next of kin….
was it there yesterday?…
what are the odds its a perfectly formed rock?…
it has a porous quality, maybe it’s a loofah!…
it doesnt make much of a seat….and there are plenty of benches…
it might be a court for a very singular form of ping pong….
whatever it is, one presupposes its made by humans…
I’m foregoing the extra-terrestrial intelligence option, for now…
so what in tarnation is it?…
answers on a postcard to

lil’ donnie trump,
the rose garden,
washingturn dc
the disunited state of america

it probably won’t do any good…
but it wont do any harm either….
might make the postman laugh….

radical way to meet new neighbours


On Monday, I awoke at 2.45am, got myself together, and drove to Dover from Cambridge to get a ferry to Calais. Eschewing the toll paying roads, it then took me several more hours to reach the seaside town of Fecamp, where I am lucky enough to be staying this week.

By the time I got to this street, I’d been battling to stay awake for some 50kms, determined to get there before I took a nap. That’s my excuse…

My destination was less than 200m behind the camera, and I had overshot…so whaddya do? I quickly became stuck, and no amount of wheel spinning was going to get me out. Miraculously, what seemed for a moment the end of the end, turned out to be a heaven sent opportunity to meet the locals….

Within 2 minutes, a small car came down the road towards me. I put on my best traffic cop, and directed the young lady driver through the narrow gap. She then obligingly got out of the car, telephoned her friend, ‘le garagiste’, who 20 minutes later arrived with a tow-truck and had me free and running within minutes.

Did I mention how charming and helpful these 2 people were? And while we waited for the tow-truck, a couple of residents on a walk stopped and kept me company, and 2 other neighbours came along and passed the time of day with much compassionate chin stroking and philosophy. Angels, every one of them….

So thank you Lord. I’d pray that You continue to move in mysterious ways, but I can already depend on it!