Martin Kirby

Martin Kirby

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

MAKES ME WONDER

We made our way slowly north through the steep Priorat valleys adorned with crimson and amber leaves - that year end enchantment of patchwork vineyards, almond and hazel groves and cherry orchards flaming...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

Zero hope

I stare at the forest dominating my home. I breathe good air. I think of the trees and plants that are so much the face of Catalonia. I cannot see the coastal refineries around which so much life revolves,...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

EQUALS on this Earth

Who says you get to decide anything about me? Do you know me? If I do you no harm, live my life peacefully, who says you get to target me with your intolerance, insults, violence?The question “What is...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

Shining EXAMPLE

There is more than one way to see the light.Nightly, without fail, one of us trails through the olive grove, a Cyclops with feeble head torch, to give the pony her last feed and a loving pat. The valley...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

Dear Seven

Well, that could not have been less magnificent. Glaring truth collided with dereliction, again, this time on a beach in Cornwall, England. But you did a wonderful job of looking as if you were having...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

The art of friendship

What can we do for Pere? Touching elbows just doesn’t cut it.The 80-year-old blacksmith, mop of grey curly hair, flat lip from pipe-smoking, easy smile and gentle nature, has gifted us more of his metal...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

Who needs EXPERTS?

Six years ago I was emerging slowly from the fog and anxiety of the darkest of drug trips. A cocktail of morphine and other mind-boggling medications had my brain doing loop the loop, cartwheels and the...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

Breathing

I saw and stack logs on the dry stone wall. When will the music begin? The sun will rise soon. Then he is there, behind me, on the dead branches of a walnut tree strangled by ivy. The song thrush fills...

HEADING FOR THE HILLS

20years at home

January 19, 2001 (2am)Twenty years ago we bounced up the track to this farmhouse. Our new home. It was pitch black and bitterly cold. But we could not have been happier. Life had just changed beyond our...