
Walking the same path for a year
Twelve visits to one stone path under the trees, and a slow lesson in noticing things that only change when you are not looking.
Stories about shared places and ordinary habits
The small library in the old brick house opens from ten until two on Saturdays. I stayed for all four hours to see who else did.

Twelve visits to one stone path under the trees, and a slow lesson in noticing things that only change when you are not looking.
A warm roll, a spiced potato fritter, a green chilli and a square of paper napkin. In praise of food that asks nothing of you.
A notebook of every hill climbed since childhood, and what a thirty-year list teaches about finishing things.
Every doorway on one cobbled lane has a plant outside it. All summer I tried, and failed, to catch anyone watering them.
Open Tabs is written and edited by one person, with occasional contributors. Once a year the best stories are collected into a small printed edition.


