An overly nerdish description of the taxonomy I use to classify my various notes.
What I saw sitting on my favourite rock.
A thrilling encounter on one of my favourite walks along the north Anglesey coast.
There are important elements of writing that feel like skiving.
Swallows aren’t summer migrants; they’re winter emigrants.
A walk on the Moor.
A walk in Derbyshire.
Interviews with, and essays about, the late W.G. Sebald.
An autobiography revisited.
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