walking words

Ben Lomond, 16/05/16

How do you record feeling? The outsight that the source is not the end but the beginning of a call northwest. It all joins up. There is no end or beginning. There is both. Here. In this moment, in the middle of this compass, east and west, north and south meet up and water is the agent, the dog whining at my back, calling me on.

Faraid Head, Durness, 7/06/16

We decorate ourselves and each other with silky bright green seaweed – nipples appear through the fronds, glint in the sun which hits off the water filling the sandy bays.

The mist drifts over me. I turn a corner and come to the edge of the mainland, where the cliffs are higher and the sea is darker and the force of the sea is stronger and noisier as it meets the rocks that protect the headland. There are no oyster catchers here but many more gulls. Mostly they rest in their homes in the rocks. They are aware of me but not bothered by my presence. Sometimes one flies in or out. I am on the edge. I bury my head in the earth and smell the alchemy of land meeting sea.

Seil Island, June 2017

holding on, soft breasts on hard rock
protected by she by she shell
neck extending reaching risking all
for grey sky and promises of rain
for moody jagged careless beauty
for the pull the pull the pull

Glasgow South Side – from a Wild City Walk with Dee Heddon, Misha Myers and Alec Finlay, 2018

A drawing of a favourite walk. Done in lockdown, as part of collaborative activity organised by Dee Heddon at the University of Glasgow, 2020

Creag Mhor Trig Walk