England
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These English days. Gravestones and poets, arm in arm and wishing to be left alone. Friends beyond words. A sadness in the air that brings comfort. A natural melancholy wrapped around flesh and stone. The trees speak of time. They whisper of things amiss. Animals and children, the innocents who need protecting. Monstrous humans, more Read more
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In the English countryside, I’m surrounded by fields of corn and the history of ages. On lazy Sunday afternoons, all you can do is smile. Despite everything that might be wrong, just go for a walk and let it all go, if only for a few hours. Away from everyone, I’m at one with myself. Read more
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in an english field a ring of stones surrounds two young bodies blue skies, crows fly low to the burnt ground fires burning on horizons dangerous trees sigh, nature cries an endless scream as she bites his chest fingers digging, lips twitching white teeth sharp drawing blood upon the steps that rise watchful eyes, Read more
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More fields and clouds. No women, only solitude. Away from the tedious minds and bodies of others, I feel at one with myself, calm. The sun brings back memories, and it’s warmth makes my blood feel good. Nature helps me to understand things, to let go of junk. And there’s too much junk, not enough Read more
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Today. After work, I walked through an English field. It took me two hours in all. At one point, I stumbled across a girl with blonde hair reading a book not far from where this photo was taken. Miles from nowhere, I was worried she would panic at my sudden appearance, fearing Read more
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ink across the eyes floating like clouds drifting like carrier bags in the wind the mundane lives of the british all the dead insects wasting themselves like it were something meaningful they spit at the sky raging at the emptiness that never seems to leave these barren lands full of supermarkets and office blocks buildings Read more
Author S. K. Nicholas 