
Fiction
Summer Magic
By Joan Farnell With a whirring of wings the pigeon took to the air, startled by the crunching of my feet on the gravel path. It was quiet here underneath the trees in Foxes Forest. [… read more ]
By Joan Farnell With a whirring of wings the pigeon took to the air, startled by the crunching of my feet on the gravel path. It was quiet here underneath the trees in Foxes Forest. [… read more ]
S&C Community Reporter Andrew Larder muses on the state of nature in Portsmouth during lockdown. Sometimes I wish my neighbour Frank had never mentioned the underground stream that runs by my house. Frank and his [… read more ]
Late autumn in Lavender Hill and I perched in her kitchen, a Frigidaire to my back. Florrie Mac rolled the fruit with her back to the Belling. Pigeons flirted on rooftops, and the distance between [… read more ]
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