History (General) Episodes

A welcome breeze plays among the reeds and carves ripples on the canal. Tonight, the Erica is moored on a perfect summer’s night. We welcome you to join us as enjoy the quiet and go searching for older attitudes to summer, the shifting dates of Midsummer's Eve, and just why Midsummer Night’s Dream was so unsummery.

It’s the night of a blue moon. Following a hot and busy sunny day the canal settles down into a contented stillness. It’s a perfect night to join and to sit back, let the quietness wash over us, to relax and to let our minds play with some big ideas. Journal entry: 23rd May, Sunday “Voices lift across the water No words, just sound A copy of Baisao in my hand Lingering over phrases and lines In the soft evening sun. I too have my cup ...

Tonight, as the rain falls softly outside and the kettle sings on the hob, we are letting our thoughts roam free. Together, we shine a light into the forgotten corners of history to explore a quiet, essential rhythm; the often-overlooked role of the people who wound the parish clocks, and the precious gift they gave, the burden of time, Journal entry: 11th May, Monday “Mother and a host of tiny ducklings (Don't count them. Just enjoy). A raven alights on the One O...

Welcome aboard the NB Erica on a wet winter’s night. It is a perfect night to snuggle down and listen to JM Synge’s turn of the 20th century accounts of his travels to the Aran Islands in a small currach on stormy seas. Journal entry: 14th February, Wednesday (St. Valentine’s Day) “Outside, No coat, On the hill that runs down to the cut. Warm sun, fleeting, Cloud chasing with the gulls And the circle of two buzzards. Maggie sits, watching, From a throne of dried grass And teasels....

Watching the sun sink below the horizon, particularly after long sunny days such as these, can evoke a mass of mental and emotional responses that seem to tap into something deep within us. Join us this week as week count down a setting sun and reflect on the rich culture it created. Journal entry: 23rd June, Friday. “The alder saplings are growing thick at the water’s edge Vying with the green spears of teasel And purple knapweed plumes. This time last year Some of them were forming...

This week marked the anniversary of what has been considered by many to be one of the most important cultural events of the twentieth century. Tonight, we try to recapture that moment and explore why its power to move still remains today. Journal entry: 18th May, Thursday, “Is there anything more beautiful Than the softness Of April and May light While the clouds scramble For height Amid a sky of towering blue?” Episode Information: Apologies for the lack of sound during the 'Tuesday' ...

Canals and railways are often very close near neighbours and so trains can be a frequent part of the canal soundscapes. This week we explore why the sound of a train in the distance (thanks to Paul Simon) can be so evocative which gives me the opportunity to reminisce about my childhood and revisit some wonderful poems. Journal entry: 24th January, Tuesday. “Racing head. Not much sleep. So I am out here, trying to walk it out. The ground crunches and splinters into Icy shards. The ki...

Join us around the stove tonight, on a very cosy NB Erica that is currently ice-locked into a frozen landscape, as we think about the Fimbulwinter of old, and why Midwinter might be mid-winter after all! Journal entry: 14th December, Wednesday. “Ridges of frost form ribs on the sweep of hills. Two rooks throw calls against a sky Marbled by the setting sun. Beyond the horizon, a pheasant startles a distant wood. My fingers and toes burn. Episode Information: Water turning to stone F...

For many, these are not easy days in which to live and our futures can appear so uncertain. How do we live through such times? Join us tonight as we listen to some deeper wisdom offered by a magpie and an alder tree. Journal entry: 7th October, Friday “Day off. First a few jobs around the boat in the gold of autumn sunshine. The alders are beginning to drop their leaves I kick them up as I walk through them Their sound reminds me of when I was young Conker hunting By the A41 In huge dri...

This week much of the country fell silent for a while and that stillness was the occasion for a chance encounter and finding within the silence the music of bells among crow song. Join us aboard the Erica tonight as we are touched by the enigmatic qualities of bells and stillness. Journal entry: 21st September, Wednesday Dew, the smell of sheep and wet grass. Rooks jostle the lightening sky. The company of ducks hunched at the water’s edge Shake themselves awake And drop into the pool o...

Just as the wind swung north with its sting of sleet and hail, the first batch of ducklings were hatched this week. It was a far from simple event! However, as winter attempted to reassert itself with some biting winds and sharp frosts, we are reminded that winter’s growl is no match for the roar of Spring. Journal entry: 1st April, Friday "Penny looks up at me, hunched and quizzical, As snow pellets and plum blossom fall. There is nothing remotely romantic about these driven, windbl...

Curl up with us for this very special Christmas Eve edition of the podcast. Whether you are feeling on your own or just in need of a bit of a breathing space, why not join me tonight for this special Jólabókaflóð inspired edition of Nighttime on Still Water’s? Although the weather may be closer to Greg Lake’s “veil of tears for the virgin birth”, there will always the possibility for “eyes filled with tinsel and fire.” Journal entry: “24th December, Friday. Christmas Eve Yesterday Four ...

Following the epic weather of the past few weeks, we go back in time to a period that best celebrated this type of weather. In this episode we explore why the enigmatic appeal of Anglo-Saxon poetry and its fascination (or even obsession) with winter casts such an enduring influence on our culture. It is the perfect type of literature for cold winter nights, but there are also other deeper traits that remain deeply rooted in our shared cultural memories that inform our attitudes to winter. Journ...

You join us on (another)stormy night, but this one is moonless and black as tar. It is the night of the new moon – the Cold Moon or the Long Night Moon. The phases of the moon give us an opportunity to contemplate the intricate play of cycles all around us and how the mirror, challenge and provide direction for our lives. Journal entry: “3rd December, Friday The tops of the trees is Shakespeare’s wood have disappeared in cloud. A defrosted world, smothered in mist and pearled with be...

Tonight, you join me on a wild October night with the rain rattling against the cabin roof - so there is a little background noise in some places. But it’s warm and dry inside. Penny is snoring in front of the stove. Settle back as we look at life and Halloweens through the flickering light of a swede-head lantern of my childhood. Journal entry: “26th October, Tuesday Gloaming. Civil Twilight. The ash in the south field is losing its denseness; Filigree silhouette, like a Victorian cut ...

Tonight, the NB Erica is locked in ice. There’s a wolfish southeaster blowing and the night is filled with rasping creaks and groans. There are times when the ice sings. Acoustic lightning flashes that dart across the frozen water surface. Journal entry: “9th February, Tuesday. Last night’s snow low uneasily on the ground, like a miser’s blanket, threadbare and uneven. But it’s enough to see the lacework of indistinct and broken-formed tracks of night-time life. For once, I can see what Penny...

This week the first proper snow of the winter fell. For a while, our world was transformed. If you love snow, a boat is the perfect place to enjoy it. If you hate snow, a boat is the perfect place to escape it! Journal entry: “29th January Friday. The last couple of mornings have smelt fresh. The trees bordering the canal sharp with bird song, not just the aural darts of warning calls but flowing rivers of melody entwined on the wind. Below our feet, last summer’s oak leaves swim the flooded...