Lost in a Landscape: Scottow
Memory has a strange tonal range, there are sparks of colour in between the washes of grey and flat spots of black or white. I have a very distinct memory of first learning to ride a bike. Oddly for some reason that escapes me it wasn’t at the hands of a parent...
Lost in a Landscape: Stratton Strawless
There is this thing were you travel through a landscape, passing things, that have become lost, part of the blur of the countryside, the unnoticed facets of a landscape which sit just back, away from our arterial routes cut as they are by human traffic. It’ is also...
Lost in a Landscape: Wayland Wood
There is a darkness in woodland, hiding in the shade of the green canopy, something that retracts in the sunlight in the corner of your vision, beyond the growing and shrinking of the shadows with each revolution of the earth on its tipping axis. Beyond the sterility...
Lost in a Landscape: Trunch
There’s a lot in a name, Trunch has one that doesn’t fit in in Norfolk, or in fact in England. Locally it sits uneasily with the profusion of ~hams and ~tons, and ~bys and ~thorps. East Anglia’s toponymy is that of the invaded, repeatedly settled. People who...
Lost in a Landscape: Rich pickings – Swafield
‘Fruit picking’ and ‘Pick your own’, still seen on cardboard hand painted signs still wedged in hedges and gateways, were and are a summer long routine in Norfolk. The memory flickers up from somewhere as I drive, I’m here and not, between sunlight and cloud on...
Lost in a landscape: Little Witchingham
There’s a sea of barley, the horizon a shadowed thin night cloud line of trees. In the late afternoon heat this far from the coast there’s no wind, no air sucked in by the heated land to move the thorned tops. Everything is calm. The summer hasn’t...
Lost in a Landscape – Lyng Easthaugh
The lands to the west of Norwich have only a passing familiarity for me. I grew up in north-east Norfolk where I recognise the landscape facets and how they fit together pretty well, the marl pits and churches and the little winding roads that dip in and to of the...
Lost in a landscape: Edingthorpe – Rising toward the surface
Lost in a landscape: Edingthorpe – Rising toward the surface The cloud has almost boiled back, the sun chasing a lowering and disintegrating weak ridge of low pressure, there’s a space for early summer between it and the next low dragging in from the south...
Last breath: Rosary Cemetery
My inclination was to put this into the hidden history category, but then I remembered how often I end up sauntering around with people I’ve never met, but whose names I can see, in the light and shadows of trees and bushes and stone and thought it all sort of...
Lost in a Landscape – Blickling Arborglyphs
Dogs lead sometimes, our is beige, stinks, is opinionated and prefers woods to beaches, muck and leaf mould to sand and pebbles. There’s more to sniff and mark an roll in in woods and fox shit beats dead gull hands down in the scent masking stakes for some...
Lost in a Landscape: Buckenham Carr
Heading west of the city two days before Christmas and it’s all a bit of a bind, a glue of cars sticks the inner ring-road fast, the whole route backed up with shoppers, escapers, people leaving work early, the driving dead. The light is at its most tangential,...Products
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lynseywhite.com/2020/03/25/saturday-night-and-sunday-morning-fear-and-self-loathing-in-the-time-o...
Saturday night and Sunday morning: fear and self-loathing in the time of Coronavirus
lynseywhite.com
It’s Saturday night in the strange new quasi-quarantined world we now live in, and everything is similar and yet, eerily, different. I’ve propped my phone against the tin of cat biscuit...