What part does place play in creativity? For a time, I thought I couldn’t write about Scotland unless beautiful scenery was my backdrop. Here’s how my views have changed.
As the travel restrictions ease in Scotland, families can reunite. But returning to my childhood village brings both new discoveries and a reminder of what has been lost.
How would you tell your origin story of your relationship with the living world? I reflect on how my parents have shaped my love of nature.
On an early spring day, blue skies sit over the rolling Fife hills. As I walk, I consider how good weather can be a balm after the worst of winters.
Before, repeating the same walk every weekend might have been many people’s definition of boredom. Now, the small green spaces on our doorstep provide calm in the chaos.
Collecting memories or taking photos for Instagram’s sake? I explore how my relationship with photography has changed in the past year since the pandemic changed our lives.
I was asked at the start of the year to give a definition of slow travel to accompany an article. My definition is for a world where our phones are forever in our pockets.
Words and pictures from a slow walk up a favourite hill in Perthshire, because autumn doesn’t feel like autumn to me unless I’ve spent a day in this place.
Spending time in a coffee shop can be an experience of itself, not simply the act of sipping a hot drink. This is my love letter to some of my favourite cafés in Scotland.
I’m not sure where the year has gone. How has time actually passed, despite the wild world we’re now living in? I ask myself this question all the time.