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F.Martens.

Posted 11-29-2010 at 03:38 AM by Steve Bucknell
At first light I am downstairs looking out. It is beginning to snow. Redgrove’s words have stuck in my head: “Out of this passage-way you must dress in it.” I take off my dressing-gown and walk to the side of the house to check the temperature; it hovers around freezing. My feet on the stepping-stones of the path are not cold and leave perfect prints. I’m amazed that I don’t feel any chill. The snow deliquesces on my shoulders forming a warm slick pelt. I walk across the springy white lawn and wipe...
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Stanley Cook

Posted 11-28-2010 at 09:42 AM by Steve Bucknell
As I cycle along the velocity of the heavy traffic sends leaves whirling around me. Sun dances through the trees and I feel as if I am flying. By the time I get to Langsett Barn my heart is pounding. When I get off the bike I feel dizzy. I walk down an icy white path to the side of Langsett reservoir where my dad’s bench is. “Fred Bucknell loved these moors” it reads.

I sit down and look across the water to the summit of Pike Low. The sun gradually unclenches my cold face. I have...
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The Book of Job.

Posted 11-27-2010 at 09:46 AM by Steve Bucknell
Updated 02-01-2011 at 10:28 AM by Steve Bucknell
A different light from a different source of reflection seeps in through the dark curtains. I look out and it has snowed in my sleep. The black back lane cuts through it so the covering is not deep.

I go downstairs and Sam leaps onto the table. I open the curtains and we are both startled as the heavy heads of horses stare back at us from over the hedge. The snow has brushed and settled on each green and shadowed surface of the garden

My footsteps cross the lawn...
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Sacheverell Sitwell

Posted 11-26-2010 at 05:41 AM by Steve Bucknell
Only time for a quick note this morning. Below freezing when I woke, but sun blazing down now on the frost-thick lawn.

From A Book of the Winter:

The Courts with feather litter of the cold are filled
And the dead woods hear no hunting horn.

Sacheverell Sitwell, Doctor Donne and Gargantua..
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Sir Thomas Browne

Posted 11-25-2010 at 06:00 AM by Steve Bucknell
Updated 12-22-2013 at 09:21 AM by Steve Bucknell
I stand in the staff car park waiting for a lift as sleet begins to fall through the yellow lights. I reflect I’m more Sisyphus than Odysseus. Thirty years as a nurse, thirty years I can look back on, having done no harm, having kept these groups of vulnerable people safe. Two years to go and then retirement. I’m formulating phrases for my next appraisal; I’ll try: “I’m struggling with the pace of change...” What I mean is I have to spend too much time sitting at a computer logging notes, care...
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