This week I heard the worst news ever. It was so awful, so far reaching, that my usual positivity withered in seconds. I wished to share what had disturbed me, but hesitated, convinced my tiny readership would switch off. Then I realised that this problem will have a bigger effect on us all than the birth of Christ has had over the centuries. That’s enough to put you off reading what now looks like exaggerated dribble from a wonky mind. Ha, you’re still reading. OK. Here goes

Listening to the radio as I performed the day’s last medical procedure, I learnt that a rare event was occurring in the skies above. In my dressing gown with nought beneath, I had a compulsion to go out in to the dark where a cold wintery wind had blown the clouds away. Through the window I could see stars, it was exhilarating for since October we’ve only had the shortest of short spells of clarity between non-stop rain. Moving through our bedroom, opening the door, I stepped

He was adamant. “Anything goes, the Planet is suffering, look at ALL the climate disasters!” I had to think for a second, “Yes, action is needed, but to stop ambulances speeding to hospital is to target the victims, not those who….” “You, me, WE need to change our life styles NOW!” “Exactly, but this motorway blocking is putting people against action because it’s disrupting their lives.” “Bull***t,” and he turned from me. My mind went back to 1998 and a valley in the Pyrene

Her smile helped me escape their onslaught. Sinking in to her presence was akin to bathing in soft golden light - such a delight after their intensity. When my friends had moved on up the rocky riverside path, noticing my fragility, these people swooped down on me as I continued to sit at the sun splashed table there between two rivers bounded by immense walls of greenery which reflected the multiple noises rising from the bouncing waters. A while earlier, my friend C, over f

Depressed? Damned? We are lemmings, but worse. Four thousand years ago, Hindu sages warned of Kali Yug, an age when materialism will over ride every other value. Perhaps they were right, for last week must go down as the saddest week in human history. The age of Kali Yug is here, now. All the hope the world put into COP26 has been evaporated by hot air loaded with CO2 emissions which will continue for decades. Those whom we chose to lead us have shown that they are lead by in

We stepped carefully through mud covering the roads, houses had sand bags across their doors, gates, driveways, but still the water had seeped inside. “The fields were rushes of floodwater, look,” a man pointed, “all the lovely topsoil wasted, on the road, in the river, into the sea, gone!” Various people were wheeling barrow loads of apples towards the Perry family’s farm where three men and two women of various ages and two infants were busy collecting as many apples as the

There in the Kenyan bush, he got it, although amongst teachers, it is said to be one of the hardest things to teach in geography, perhaps because three concepts need to spin together to make it clear. Today my wife, who has never totally grasped it, asked and, as it is that time of the year when everything is getting darker for us in the northern hemisphere, I picked up an orange and a satsuma. I know, we shouldn’t have bought these items which require transporting many miles

Adrenaline is amazing stuff. Last night our house was partially flooded due to my not being fit enough to sweep autumnal leaves from our courtyard. Despite my condition, we worked flat out for an hour and all was contained, but as soon as we stopped the adrenaline drained away and I was shattered. Sadly, other poor souls down the hill weren’t as fortunate - unthoughtful cars splashed waves of water through their front doors. For hours tropical loads of water fell from the sk

“Sunny all night, cloudy all day.” I leaned over and pecked my wife good morning. “What?” Half awake, she rubbed her eyes. For most of this year, the nights have been bright and starry and the days dismally grey with little rain. I know because, like most men my age, I get up several times in the night. “And where are the October gales?” “Next week’s rainy,” she was trying to get up to speed, yawning, rubbing those loving eyes. “Blinkin’ Climate Change, and the government’s s

I have become a lazy toad. It now takes effort to lift a finger and cook, clean or any of the multiple things which go in to running a household and which I did without thinking six months ago. I haven’t even driven the car in all this time. All these things… and more, are left to my wife, poor thing. The other day I mentioned this to her best friend and for the first time my long suffering wife admitted that it has been relentless looking after a couch potato. I’ve changed f

This blog is short because I’ve a very busy week. You really can’t trust politicians. “This morning as we stood here,” the man pointed at the map, “you told me nothing was going to be built beyond this point.” “Oh, I was completely unaware of this part of the plan.” But this man was on the team who designed the plan. He’d been caught out for fibbing. Twice, for when I proposed a tricky question a few days previously, he’d been totally aware of the plan’s destructive extent. O

“This is the most beautiful walk in the world!” She yelped. Her six year old eyes were fresh. And it was the same for me because I’d not had the energy to walk further than our garden in months. We followed a gentle stream cutting a level path into a steep sided valley in The Quantocks hills. It was magic. The rippling liquid chanted over mini waterfalls, gurgled as it dropped into pools of calm and eased its way over pebbles and tiny sandbanks clear beneath the passing water

“I despise anyone who hunts,” he glared at the LandRovers filled with men and guns. “You don’t eat meat?” I asked. “Course I do.” “Somebody has to kill the sentient beings you eat.” “Sentient! Animals can’t think, they react,” my companion grunted. “So eating them’s not an issue” “But hunting them is?” “Hunting’s cruel, the fear of the chase….” “There’s the fear of being transported to an abattoir, of waiting your turn, the smell of blood, watching your friends being kill

A man, born a prince in one land, who became a duke and was then made a prince of a currently far richer land, has died a little before reaching his 100th birthday and our nation is at a standstill. Listening to a tune on my radio being silenced mid stream yesterday, my own heart went soft for a while as a presenter told of this moment and for the next half an hour, no national station did anything else but broadcast this single insert. The world had stopped. And today, all t

From a luxury house tastefully clad in expensive wood, perched upon cliffs falling to an exciting but over-loved little fishing village, out he walked. He was tall, elegant though in ‘gardening’ gear. We smiled and began chatting and his soft, cultured voice told you he was entitled, that he was powerful, used to being listened to and followed. Powerful, rich, full of health, fit. Living in a to-die-for location in a home in which many dream spending a single night as perfect

A few paces from us, a grey tree trunk as high as my shoulders lies upon its side, dead wood swirls within a hollow many a child would have hidden within for centuries. Sir Walter Raleigh would have walked under the green leaves of this majestic, fallen tree when visiting the handsome Manor at our feet and he’d have enjoyed the twisting old trees which now have canopies thirty, forty paces wide. Few trees of this age exist around the world, but because Celts and Druids admire

Brexit? Fix it? Or break it? A short blog… A few weeks ago, whilst speaking to a Swedish friend in France, I suggested that Boris could be taking the hardline Brexit lot on a mystery tour which could end in an EU deal. That now looks to be the case. Whether Parliament will go along with him depends on MPs thinking about the country, rather than themselves. In past blogs I have unfairly compared Boris to Trump, ignoring that our man has the ability to latch on to that thing we

We have spent our days lazing beside clear rivers, swimming, walking a bit and picnicking. What a playground France is - Southern European life at its best. Yet move from the lush rivers and the land is parched, the soil lifts when the wind scoots over the countryside and you wonder how the trees survive. There has been so little rain all summer long, perhaps the only people who are happy are the tourists and wine makers. Judging by the heavy bunches of grapes hanging in the

A kind friend has loaned us his studio in a narrow alley in the centre of a medieval town where houses cram together, attractive to look at but not easy to live in. Having been woken at 3am, I lay awake, trying to forget the powerful currents rippling my mind. For two night’s running the radio in a first floor apartment next door has drawn me from my dreams. OK, you could say, we are only here for ten days and he who might work unusual hours needs to unwind with his favourite

Every so often a carton sums up a situation better than words and this week I spotted a fantastic one in The Times. It particularly resonated because the day before I’d been talking to a bright young woman who travels the world for work and constantly blushes when Brexit is mentioned. “People laugh at our politicians and I feel ashamed to be British!” Seven horsemen facing backwards as their steeds gallop forwards, each points a loaded pistol at their rivals, but for one who