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Where the sand meets the sea meets the sky

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Cornwall – the wind flies and waves scoop in long curls on to the sand. There are surfers out, paddling in wait of the perfect moment. Then suddenly it’s there, and they lift up quick as dragonflies to skim the white manes back to the shore.

We stand a few minutes to watch and then carry on with our walk. It’s not too hot. It’s not too cold. It’s not too wet. It’s not too sunny. Even our foot prints sink just enough, as we head on towards somewhere we’ve never been, or might have been once but can’t remember. We are undecided and unconcerned. It’s one of those days.

Our pleasure is in being out, in feeling the sun as we cover the ground in one direction, climb over the dunes in another, and then return the way we came.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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I remember Charlottesville

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It’s not every day that I receive a book like this in the post. This was sent to me by a friend. The author, Nora Neus, is her daughter.

I’m looking forward to reading this, and hope it’ll help me to understand what happened that August in 2017 when the Unite the Right rally came to Charlottesville. The voices apparently are those of witnesses and antiracist activists from across the communities who stood up for the world they believed in as the rally arrived.

The book is not long – a little over 200 pages, mainly composed of interviews, the majority of which Nora Neus carried out herself on the day after the riots. At the time she’d recently started a job in New York with CNN, but happened to be in the city of Charlottesville in Virginia, clearing out her apartment as the drama evolved. Charlottesville had been her home for years, and suddenly it was struggling to absorb the impact of the white supremacists and neo-Nazis who’d brought their Unite the Right rally into the very core of the city. She was right there, understood the city’s rhythm, and tried to capture what happened.

It must have been a deeply unnerving time.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023

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The meaning of bread

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Bread carries so much meaning.

It is food. It is survival. It is a sign of community. A symbol of hope and love.

When there is plenty, it is taken for granted by those who may never have known its absence. Where there is none, it is treasured beyond measure.

Last night this loaf of brioche – golden and glowing – was presented by an all-female choir of Ukrainian refugees, to their host for the evening. I was lucky enough to get a taste of the delicious bread, and to hear the choir.

It was an emotional evening. There was such passion in the songs, every word ringing out with hope and strength.

Copyright Georgie Knaggs & The Phraser 2023