Paperboats Zine

This is what the world was like.

The Atlantic narrowed to a slither of sea

between long, gorse-yellowed hills.

A gannet flew close to the small, slow waves.

It’s a sky-blue afternoon, with combed out clouds and an onshore breeze. From your bench high on grassy bluff, the view is of twin coastlines

Troup Head – Scotland’s only mainland gannet colony: a pungent aroma of guano fills the air as I walk closer to life on the edges

The train slows, stops, sheds people onto the station platform at Corrour. After the last two days’ walking and camping this buzz of voices

I have never glued my fingers to a train nor brought motorway traffic to a standstill. I’m interested though, in writing as activism