· Wirral ·
A good few hours’ writing in the car, looking out across the Dee Marshes from Gayton. No sign of Wales today: too much mist, which soon brought rain.
I have a fabulous study at home with a glass-topped desk and a gorgeous 27” iMac computer. So, why do I seem to find it easier to write sitting in the passenger seat of my car, with a vegetable chopping-board laid across my knees for a table, banging words into my iPad? I suppose there are far fewer distractions here—especially when it’s pissing down, and all the birds have taken off somewhere. But not having my books to hand is problematic. Or are they a distraction too?
“…wonderfully droll, witty and entertaining… At their best Carter’s moorland walks and his meandering intellectual talk are part of a single, deeply coherent enterprise: a restless inquiry into the meaning of place and the nature of self.”
—Mark Cocker, author and naturalist
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