Notes From Nowhere

  • A dark valley that retains a near perfect stillness against the quick-moving clouds.
  • Winter has stripped the land of any dignity.
  • A lattice of dry-stone wall across the hills.
  • Drizzle, gathering in huge drops; poised beneath strips of fencing, and from the tips of trees.
  • Disused barns, or sheds, or storehouses, their roof tiles blighted by lichens, nature reclaiming it.
  • The stark cry of a bird.
  • On the hillside: headlights from a car navigating the awkward terrain. You feel suddenly vulnerable at this invasion of the stillness.
  • The tops of hills surrendered to the clouds.
  • Silhouettes of trees expose birds’ nests.
  • A chill and loud wind.

By Mark Newton

Born in 1981, live in the UK. I write about strange things.