from the wood to the moors and back again…

After a convolutedly wonderful, if unfinished and rather exhausting, walk from one corner of Dartmoor to the other, and quite a number of weeks spent immersed in an amazing garden, in grounding myself and finding a path forward, we found out that the straight way between Leewood and High Heathercombe is actually quite beautiful and…

Leewood, a paradise built on details.

Some people go diving to see sharks, turtles, barracudas, dolphins... In short, big fish. Well, probably the majority of people. Me, I like the little gems, shining all around, making every corner a treasure cove. Those small crabs, the tiny blennies, brittle stars... The "details", so to speak. Same with a story. Who cares about…

before the jump…

When does a dream start? Do we need to be asleep, far away from our life? Or at least wishing to be so? Do we need to float in that space, akin to limbo, where we melt into our surroundings, eyes glassy and absent, experiencing some unmade future? How do we become aware that our…

on the posession of freedom…

My choice of lifestyle is often associated with freedom. I can supposedly freely move around, have no ties to any particular place, no long-term commitments, no debts, no attachments... Although nothing of the above is entirely true or entirely false, one thing is certain: a homeless person gets to think and talk about freedom a…

grounding on the move…

In my view, most long journeys we take—maybe also the short ones?—are but a journey towards ourselves. Something is missing, there is a hunger, a wanderlust, something needs to change in order for our selves to be acknowledged. I guess the evident thing, at least nowadays, is to go someplace, "change the tapestry", look around—outside…

from the moors to the wood

Two and a half month later... My castle has kept on moving. It's been quite a couple of months, it seems as if all has changed, yet it feels very much the same. Perhaps I am finally becoming my castle? After an amazing time at High Heathercombe—which I'm sure I'm going to repeat—and a fabulous…

In praise of Rubus, or a ramble on brambles

In an old-ish Farming Today podcast from the BBC, I recently heard—with some measure of dismay—that farmers (or at least the one interviewed) in the UK are removing their raspberries to plant the new-ish superberry in the block, chokeberries. Recently renamed with its less threatening latin name, Aronia. I'm not necessarily against cultivating new, imported…

comeflor – capers (but not the frolicking type)

I've been called a comeflor. Often. It's a venezuelan word –which you probably won't find in many dictionaries- literally translatable as "flower-eater", and meaning naïve or idealist. I guess it comes from believing -probably quite naïvely- that idealists sit in contemplation while munching on the sexual organs of plants. In any case, I was rightly…

Dear Fat Spider, have some orange…

...and then go away with lavender scent! The useful bit of this post: orange oil didn't keep spiders away.  But since I applied lavender oil to the rim of the door, no spider has been sighted in the room! .... Spiders are generally good. They eat a lot of our pests (albeit in smallish numbers),…