Walking Thoughts

 I did not write this A poet's interpretation of climate change can vary greatly depending on their individual perspective and artistic style. Here's an example of how a poet might describe climate change: In the realm where nature's balance once held sway, A shift unseen, a world in disarray. Whispers of change upon the wind do blow, As climate's fabric starts to tear and show. The icebound giants, majestic and serene, Now melt and weep, their tears upon the scene. The polar realms, once frigid and so pure, Now bear the scars of warming's cruel allure. The seasons dance, their rhythm out of tune, As summer lingers, and winter fades too soon. The delicate web of life, so finely spun, Now trembles, as habitats come undone. The forests weep, their verdant tapestry lost, As flames devour what nature's beauty cost. The harmony disrupted, creatures displaced, Their cries unheard, their futures now erased. The oceans rise, their fury can't be quelled, A watery emb...

 Writers have long, known that words are very important. Poets and novelists can transform us to another dimension, or to an altered state of emotion. A book can make me feel joyous or a poem might make me feel inspired. The application of science and engineering makes me feel satisfied. Unfortunately, the important aspects of the climate crisis have been named not by writers but by scientists. The terms Global warming and climate change have failed to depict the true nature of the threat we face. carbon fails to communicate an understanding of the underlying cause of global warming. Carbon footprint fails to illustrate not just the range of greenhouse gases considered, but also the multi faceted considerations of the undertaking that is an assessment of carbon sources and carbon sinks that together make up a carbon footprint .  The term Carbon sources does not conjure up the component parts that are considered which incorporate energy use, use of natural materials, capital pu...

 The characters of the book, all those that I meet in adult hood. There are some in childhood that I could include. for example Alf, who worked at the railway station. Alf Later became mayor of the town. The juxtaposition of a man who worked on the railways and mayor seems interesting. It was he and his wife who campaigned for a chain of office. In other words they wanted money spent on a large piece of jewellery for them to wear. There was a ticket inspector at the railway station. Seem to be there forever, as if he was hundreds and hundreds of years old. He had brill creamed hair. So I guess he was young in the 1950s and I met him in the 1970s, and he was still there when I left in the 1990s. I wonder what became of him. There were the neighbours. The ones that put up the big fence. One of them or maybe both used to play the electric organ. which we could hear from our home as they played it at the rear of theirs. He worked at critals, the window factory, as a night watchman.

  color photo of a bathroom with a bath, a toilet with a high-level cistern and a long chain with a pole on the end, a sink, green staining in the bath, no mirror, and a small wall-mounted single bar heater high up on the wall There is a single small bathroom in the bungalow,. It is mostly dirty, and the lock does not work. There is a cardboard skeleton on the door, put up to depict, waiting for the bathroom and an open and close sign in lieu of a lock. The bathroom has the same white wash paint on the walls as the rest of the bungalow . Here The paint peels from the walls as the paint responds to the humidity of the room,.. , worn and weathered, bearing the marks of time and neglect. The bath, once pristine white, now displays green staining, evidence of years of use and the passage of water. This is Bath is the site of occasions of torture for me. And sometimes we would feel the bath using kettles of water boil the kettle to fill the bath with which was a slow process that did no...

children's bedroom with a bay window, two cabin beds, a budgerigar, a 12-inch black and white TV, and a very untidy room The children’s bedroom is the same size as the living room. It has a bay window to the front. Theoretically this would provide  a flood of natural light that would illuminates the room. But the neighbours have put up a 6 foot fence which blocks all light and view from this room. The curtains are old. They have blackberries on them as do all of the curtains in the house . When the curtains are open, the girls can see a petrol station in a pear trees in the front garden, and the busy main road. None of this inspires daydreaming adventures. I do take a job at the petrol station in my teens. The two cabin beds stand on either side of the room. each has a desk tucked underneath. There is also a bed chair and a dressing table as well as a set of shelves in this room. The shelves are orange and black metal shelves. Most likely intended for use in a garage. There was a l...

color photo of a small home filled with tat and smelling of cat poo In the living room, there is a rented TV. It is a 14 inch colour TV. It’s sits on a wooden trolley. The room is cluttered and chaotic, overflowing with an eclectic assortment of objects. Every surface is covered with knick-knacks, trinkets, and random odds and ends, creating a visual cacophony. The room is a mishmash of styles, with mismatched furniture and outdated decor. Some of the furniture is children’s furniture as that is and choice, the Muses her and it suits her style. On the floor as a fake tiger rug a children’s toy Tiger rug, and one of the floor cushion seats does a camel. There is also a piano in the room. It is bad attitude and some of the notes don’t actually work. There is a piano stool with it which is wobbly as it is broken and in disrepair,. the piano has graffiti on it. The air is heavy with a pungent odor, a mixture of stale air, dust, and the unmistakable scent of cat faeces. The smell lingers in...

 Bouts of creativity, punctured by bouts of despair, characterised Ann’s life. A Home in need of  modernisation and unfettered by any competent DIY became Ann’s canvas. The bungalow was painted pink on the outside. The garden grew wild.. inside Ann painted each other doors a different colour of the rainbow. Ann was not a competent painter and lacked patience. Each door sported a variety of colours.. Ann laid a green carpet on the concrete floor, and hung a lampshade in the style of a hot air balloon coloured, like, the sky with a blue sky and clouds, from  the ceiling. A lot of the time Ann lived in a fantasy world.. this world most populated by two teddy bears. They were named Bob and Ben and had been made by her mum. Ann Put up pictures on the wall 2 feet from the ground as these are where Bob and Ben would have put up their pictures have they put them up themselves. All of the walls were white washed.. and all of the floors, except the green carpet, were covered in che...

 David and Ann married at 20. They were married in the local church with both families present.  They honeymooned on a canal boat. It was during this week, following the wedding that Ann states she discovered her husband’s disability. Prior to that, she says she had no awareness that her husband was partially sighted. Given this disability, a canal boat honeymoon might be considered a poor choice. As they cruised gracefully along the water way, they were blissfully unaware of any impending peril, especially not the upcoming weir. Walkers and other boat goers began to shout warnings in ever-increasing alarm. “ The weir,! watch out for the weir!”, they called. This is the moment Ann says that she found out her husband cannot see.  They moved into a home together in an East London suburb of Ilford. Here they had cats. They named their kittens Tate and Lyle because they were sweet. Children did not come along for another four years. Once they had started a family, David and A...

 Ann was an ambitious woman. Living with undiagnosed bipolar disorder meant that she had great energy and creativity. Unfortunately, it also meant she was plagued by periods of suicidal depression. Growing up in East London Ann was at first raised in a multi generation home and then in a council flat with her mum. Her first home was in Dagenham, where she grew up with her mum, her grandmother, grandfather and her aunts. Born immediately after the Second World War she was subject to rationing and had a particular dislike to the rationing of chocolate as a child, especially having to defer her ration of chocolate to her aunt. Her mother and grandfather were Salvationists. The Salvation Army started up in East London in Victorian times, and her grandfather was a Victorian. Salvationists practised a Christian religion. Based on practical help. They offered soup and blankets, secondhand clothes and taught abstinence from alcohol. Gin was mothers, ruin and alcohol studs between a poor ma...

 Every morning David Bigg walked to the station. He took the same route every day. Leaving his small modest home full of items items hoarded by his wife, down the path through the worn black iron gate, set in the ruined brick wall. David crossed the busy main road, relying more than most on his sense of hearing, given his visual impairment. He walked northwards the full length of the road to the centre of town where he crossed the High Street. he passed It’s mediocre small town shops, budget supermarket, and the cafés and hairdressers named with puns. He passed on the corner the clothes shop named after Elvis Presley’s daughter, and the daughter of the owner. Religiously taking the pedestrian crossings, David walked onwards each morning for the mile walk to catch his morning train.. After the High Street, his walk, took him past much classier roads than his, where, the houses were much bigger than his own two bedroom bungalow that he shared with his wife, two daughters and unc...

 Once a week every week I get a weeks food shopping delivered. Today is delivery day. I finally feel able to eat the food from last weeks delivery. I looked in the fridge and allowed myself to have the yoghurt.. I told myself that this is the second time you have looked in the fridge and wanted it and the new food is due in the next 15 minutes. Finally, I can eat it.

  Des was 60, and he worked as a process controller at the carbon regeneration industrial site where Torill was quality control technician. He was a pretty standard sort of person short,  overweight and had lots of stories to tell about his life. He was generally quite pleased with himself, and thought of himself as quite an  impressive sort of person. But really he was ordinary. not in a bad way, a nice ordinary. But it was like he didn’t know that it was nice to be ordinary. It was Des that taught me about dental hygienists which I had never heard of before, but he had been for a tooth clean, not just been to the dentist . des had worked as a bus driver before and he told a story about a time he was driving his bus, and a young female passenger got up as her stop approached, and stood near the door, just behind the driver waiting to alight. Suddenly a cat lept out in front of the bus.  Des continued to drive on, striking the cat and killing it. ´You killed the cat!...