Category: Writing
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On Death 2
When things have all got a bit too much (and if I remember) I sit and imagine our planet and the noise we produce seeping out into an empty and silent universe. Perhaps ours is the only sound of what we call “life”. At some point, those sounds will end, and the universe will return […]
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On Death 1
It is the first week of January, and I’m standing in the Chapel of the Nine Altars at Durham Cathedral. In front of me lies a gravestone, on top of which lies my four-year-old nephew, acting out his current obsession. Behind me are the remains and shrine of Saint Cuthbert. To my left, an altar […]
Samuel Wood 