Menagerie in stone
A wall is almost always just a wall, but there is a wall in Cardiff that is a menagerie in stone. By Cardiff Castle, animals and birds sit and sprawl atop the gables of a wall, frozen creatures gazing out over Castle Street.
A wall is almost always just a wall, but there is a wall in Cardiff that is a menagerie in stone. By Cardiff Castle, animals and birds sit and sprawl atop the gables of a wall, frozen creatures gazing out over Castle Street.
The Chilterns in late September. Summer should be over but won’t let go. Autumn permits this day of aestival warmth but slowly drums its cool brown fingers.
Dungeness is an inhospitable place when the wind is up and the rain sweeps across the shingle. It was early on May Day. The crew on the beach, poised like weekend paramilitaries on exercise, were not there for the weather. This was a stake-out.
The herring gulls came to the towns and cities because it was easier to find food there. The seas were emptying but the land was ever more bountiful. Domestic waste and fast food detritus were turning urban streets into medieval re-enactment zones.