Ah, brilliant! How I love a story that circles around to meet itself. And holy moly, that oak tree in your lane photo is such an incredible being, it almost distracted me from reading on.
I have similar fascination with a huge eucalyptus tree right around the corner from my parents house. It grows on a large embankment of red sandstone walls, and can be seen from the city centre. It feels like seeing an old friend every time I pass it.
I am ravished. How do you meld whimsy, the brutal awkwardness of being, and ineffable transcendence? You help me open my eyes (and other assorted senses) to the strangeness of life.
The first memorable thing I have read today, and clearly the best. I have often wondered how musicians in a group know to stay in time with one another. But more significantly is the question, "How does an ordinary human express himself in such a way as to be able to leave a lasting impression upon another, and a hopefully permanent smile upon her face?" Once again, I say, "Brilliant."
So good! Such a satisfying ending, as was the use of the wonderful word 'palimpsest'. Later I'm going make some tea and listen to your audio version. Thanks, Tom!
Really enjoyed this Tom and appreciated the recording - I’m someone who still loves being read to especially by the author themself. You captured the spacey experience of seeing glow worms so well. Roscoe tucked in a coat, not sure how you got away with that.
Listening to you reading this while making and drinking a posh frothy coffee has made an otherwise disappointing Sunday much better :) I thought of my favourite lanes in Tuckenhay between the pub and the holiday homes, where I saw the most amazing starry skies I’ve ever seen in the Devon dark and nearly fell over while walking along looking up.
Reading that first paragraph shot me back through time to the end of a festival feeling. Also, and not to be mistaken with the day after the night before of a party you have hosted. Everything that had felt infused with magic, hope, excitement, the energy of ...what if, replaced with fag butts, crumpled and discarded things and old beer cans. The contrast always felt off kilter. I always enjoyed the anticipation more than the party itself, and now I am a grown up, at the grand old age of 46, I can finally make my life ONLY the nice parts of the anticipation. I love how your piece describes all the different lives lived within the same existence. Life captured so beautifully and simply. I will be upgrading and taking advantage of that offer when I can get to a computer!
This cheered me up no end today , getting a bloody cold and I am anticipating feeling like death . I love your descriptions of the 90’s , I remember it probably through rose tinted specs as being amazing, good music, good friends and that feeling of excitement that I often don’t get now as I approach 50. In reality, I’m sure I was a moody, spotty teenager who drank too much peach Concorde and too herself far too seriously.
I enjoyed listening, it brought back memories of walking in lanes, in the summer. I do enjoy your writing. I think February may the the right time of year to re-read Help the Witch.
Ah, brilliant! How I love a story that circles around to meet itself. And holy moly, that oak tree in your lane photo is such an incredible being, it almost distracted me from reading on.
Thank you! (And for the subscription: I've just emailed you.) I was obsessed with that oak tree when I used to live down the hill from it.
I have similar fascination with a huge eucalyptus tree right around the corner from my parents house. It grows on a large embankment of red sandstone walls, and can be seen from the city centre. It feels like seeing an old friend every time I pass it.
Me, too! I swear that tree was talking to me. It might even have answered when I talked back.
I am ravished. How do you meld whimsy, the brutal awkwardness of being, and ineffable transcendence? You help me open my eyes (and other assorted senses) to the strangeness of life.
Yes! Tom’s writing is wonderful-fully whimsical.
The first memorable thing I have read today, and clearly the best. I have often wondered how musicians in a group know to stay in time with one another. But more significantly is the question, "How does an ordinary human express himself in such a way as to be able to leave a lasting impression upon another, and a hopefully permanent smile upon her face?" Once again, I say, "Brilliant."
So good! Such a satisfying ending, as was the use of the wonderful word 'palimpsest'. Later I'm going make some tea and listen to your audio version. Thanks, Tom!
Thanks Stacy. It is a great word! Enjoy your tea.
Really enjoyed this Tom and appreciated the recording - I’m someone who still loves being read to especially by the author themself. You captured the spacey experience of seeing glow worms so well. Roscoe tucked in a coat, not sure how you got away with that.
Thanks Angela! Yes, it's amazing I still have functioning hands after that.
Always worth reading to the end, though sometimes I read the end first, just in case.
That was a VERY useful recording as it meant I could listen to it whilst walking down lanes with my dog Basil.
Excellent! Please tell Basil I will try to do more recordings for him very soon.
We both thank you
Thank you Tom. I enjoyed this so much. I love it when you write pieces like this. It is like long form poetry.
Thank you, Anne. I had a lot of fun writing it.
Wow this is brilliant - what an incredible ability to set scenes concisely and yet bring them completely to life
Thank you so much!
Love it! My husband's great great grandad lived on Teapot Lane in 1891, it was called Teapot Lane in the 1891 census.
Wow! Thank you!
Listening to you reading this while making and drinking a posh frothy coffee has made an otherwise disappointing Sunday much better :) I thought of my favourite lanes in Tuckenhay between the pub and the holiday homes, where I saw the most amazing starry skies I’ve ever seen in the Devon dark and nearly fell over while walking along looking up.
Reading that first paragraph shot me back through time to the end of a festival feeling. Also, and not to be mistaken with the day after the night before of a party you have hosted. Everything that had felt infused with magic, hope, excitement, the energy of ...what if, replaced with fag butts, crumpled and discarded things and old beer cans. The contrast always felt off kilter. I always enjoyed the anticipation more than the party itself, and now I am a grown up, at the grand old age of 46, I can finally make my life ONLY the nice parts of the anticipation. I love how your piece describes all the different lives lived within the same existence. Life captured so beautifully and simply. I will be upgrading and taking advantage of that offer when I can get to a computer!
fair beautiful bit of writing is that.
Thank you!
This cheered me up no end today , getting a bloody cold and I am anticipating feeling like death . I love your descriptions of the 90’s , I remember it probably through rose tinted specs as being amazing, good music, good friends and that feeling of excitement that I often don’t get now as I approach 50. In reality, I’m sure I was a moody, spotty teenager who drank too much peach Concorde and too herself far too seriously.
Anyway, loved it and can’t wait for more.
I enjoyed listening, it brought back memories of walking in lanes, in the summer. I do enjoy your writing. I think February may the the right time of year to re-read Help the Witch.
A bit late to this party, but just wanted to say: really, really great stuff. That ending is magic.
Thank you, Johnny. Very kind of you to say so.