Tuesday, April 14, 2009

Getting out of here, windmill and copper mine.

1. We strike out up the road, independent with a rucksack, lunch, map and water.

2. We stand under a wind turbine and hearing its whomph-hiss, whomph-hiss. I feel very small and vulnerable.

3. The copper mine is like a filthy fingerprint on the green land. Standing in the dead land (filthy ponds in the middle of the sliced off mountain top) we can see in all directions green fields between the slag heaps.

4. A slice of gooey chocolate cake. Its butter icing is gritty with sugar.

Winter is passing, toad in the hole and mulled wine.

1. It is cold (although less chill than it has been) and cloudy (although less grey than it has been) and a robin sings loudly from the top ...