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Solid Air

Digging deep. The body fatigued from saline submersion, battered and reborn. New strength is found though the rigors of intense activity - new strengths in distraction from the insipid traction of inactivity. Atrophy creeps slow and sure in the whiles of lethargic indolence to carpet with twisting grips a sleeper-hold which would surely fell the mightiest of bull-elephants. My mammalian alter-ego is more manic marmot than proud proboscidea.

The move eastward from wilds of west Eire to the more tame & touristic but no-less dramatic south-western environs of the Queen's country have done me a spell of mixed charms. Change is relished as a chutney side-dish accompaniment.

The thinner strung strings of my inner instruments resonate high harmonies to the providence of good weather blessed upon the initial stretch of days here. Their gradual lengthening has not gone unnoticed and the veiling hazes of the past winter months are lifting to reveal teasing glimpses of summer's elongated evenings. John Martyn, in his atmospheric serenade, whispers to me as the shadows shorten.

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