Once upon a time they came in clouds
to dip and swivel over opened fields;

the spring wind, patched with sunlight,
and lapwings up above and all around –

a shimmer of iridescent green.
Now there are no more.

I hear their absence, waken in the early light
knowing they are gone and won’t return.… ....Read the rest


I don’t remember when I discovered Skype. All I do know is that I was in the depths of despair about seeing my little girl Willow who had gone back to the south of Germany with her mother. I was haunted by the fear I would lose touch with her completely, that things would become more and more distant until I hardly knew how to relate to her, or she to me.… ....Read the rest


I wrote a piece a couple of weeks ago concerning my newest novel ‘The Well of the North Wind’. But I’m aware that I didn’t include anything from it, and this time I want to do so. The strange thing is that the novel started out as a short story, and for a long time nothing more than that first part – the short story – was put onto paper.… ....Read the rest