It’s good to be up in the mornings just before the sky begins to turn. It’s a bit like a huge lampshade, stretched very tight all round. The lamp-switch is one of those fade-on fade-off ones, and the bulb has come on very dim and lovely, no obvious colour yet, no reds or greens, still just darkness edging on deep… continue reading

I am writing this piece soon after Vincent Nichols declared that the UK Government’s changes to the benefit system are “punitive” and a “disgrace.” Two strong words quietly spoken by a man about to be appointed Cardinal by the Pope.  Since then, twenty-seven Anglican bishops and sixteen other clergy have followed suit, accusing the Tory-led coalition Government of creating, through… continue reading

I run a creative writing workshop each fortnight in a psychiatric in-patient unit in Brent and always cycle there and back. One part of the route runs alongside the Grand Union canal, another part the Thames between Hammersmith and Wandsworth. On my way home one evening, just below Hammersmith Bridge, still in day-light, tide very low, a whole community of… continue reading