Foolishly, we mistake kindness for weakness and silence for ignorance.

'Seek happiness in tranquility and avoid ambition, even if it be only the apparently innocent one of distinguishing yourself in science and discoveries.' Mary Shelly

Youth calls to age

You too have seen the sun a bird of fire
Stepping on clouds across the golden sky,
Have known man's envy and his weak disire,
Have loved and lost.

You, who are old, have loved and lost as I
All that is beautiful but born to die,
Have traced your patterns in the hastening frost.
And you have walked up in the hills at night,
And bared your head beneath the living sky,
When it was noon have walked into the light,
Knowing such joy as I.

Though there are years between us, they are naught
Youth calls to age across the tired years:'What have you found,' he cries, 'what have you sought?'
'What you have found,' age answers through his tears,
'What you have sought'

Dylan Thomas

Crazy dancing.

An expression of freedom. Demonstrated here by Jim Brodie (during the Edinburgh years) and recently revived in our flat. Catalysed by a Zappa CD from Nick.

Emma and Ewan's wedding!
This beautiful couple. After 7 years still so perfect. The wedding was great. Because of these two. Also to meet our friends from Birmingham.
T adopted some uncles and aunties! Emma and Ewan, Rachel and Dave, Sarah and Leigh.

"'Friends are like flowers' thought Pooh,
'You pick the ones you really like' ".

Child of the seventies, child of the naughties.

The band were playing at a 70s party...My hair normally looks crazier than this but I recently had a haircut so had to buy this wig!

Zen and the art of cycling

We bought a car. It's 13 years old but it goes.
Cars cars cars. We love them, we hate them. Freedom to travel. How free are we behind the windscreen? As free as behind the TV screen? How free is that?

Cycling to and from work I can look at the trees. In the winter they stand bare. I watch them bending and dancing. In the Springtime I see the cherry blossoms shaking; pink, white, pink. The green Summer, trees are heavy, birds sing squirrels jump. The autumnal city shines; leaves on the road. I see high walls. I see the sun setting over the Oxfordshire hills. I can feel the rain. Snow. Wind.

"On a cycle the frame is gone. You're completely in contact with it all. You're in the scene, not just watching it anymore, and the sense of presence is overwhelming".Robert Pirsig