Send us a text Welcome to Halloween on the canal. It’s a perfect night to turn down the lights, curl up in comfy chair with a warm mug, and listen to a spooky tale. Can anyone explain what really did happen on that celebrated (or notorious) section of canal at Morton’s Rise under the glowering presence of Draid Hill? Journal entry: 31st October, Friday (All Hallows’ Eve) “The day grows thin Between light and darkness Heron spanned Silent as owl flight The canal ...

Send us a text Have you ever wondered what it was like to visit a ‘moorings’ along one of Britain’s waterways and to stand and watch and listen as this small world flows to its own daily rhythms? Although every 'mooring' is different, we explore the common thread that unites them. Why not join us for a sunny autumnal Sunday and listen to the day unfold. Journal entry: 6th October, Monday “Wind buffets and rocks the boat The mooring lines tighten and then slack. Fenders creak...

Send us a text It's a blustery, moonless, and nearly starless night tonight, with the ever-present hint of rain in the air. So, why not come aboard the Erica for a while and reminisce about inconsequential things, the joy they bring, and how they form such strong bedrocks to our lives in an unsteady world? Journal entry: 17th September, Wednesday “Summer has left And strewn all along the towpath Is the detritus of its sojourn. Rusting wires of sorrel and dock, Hogweed ...

Send us a text Tonight, for a little while, let’s leave the sleeping canal in peace as it slowly recovers and heals after the summer long drought. Instead, let's go down to the river where the water is alive with light and chuckles and laps under rowing boats and let us see what we can see. Journal entry: 4th September, Thursday “Clouds pillow and pile Black skies behind us A fleeting sun catches the scarlet of bryony berries That wrap themselves around Spiky vin...

Send us a text A newly born moon is still below the horizon and the parched ground breathes in the quiet of a summer's night. The water levels may be low, but you're assured a welcome that is full and warm aboard the NB Erica as we catch up on life with all its ebbs and flows, and unfuriating complexities that make it all so worthwhile. Journal entry: 18th August, Monday “Rain in the night Woke up to streaks on the windows. I take the rake off the cabin roof And lower ...

Send us a text Could the humble drydock be the perfect example of canal engineering ingenuity? Find out why in our latest episode and join us back afloat onboard the Erica as we explore some surprising facts about this often-overlooked marvel. Journal entry: 1st August, Friday (Lammas Day) “Fields the colour of linen and calico Under turbulent skies of heavy cloud. As I chew on a blade of grass The wind whips up dust devils Across the dry, hard-baked hill. Apples...

Send us a text It’s been a long sweltering day. Darkness is reluctantly beginning to fall, and a restless heat lies heavy over the canal. Let's settle down and listen to some echoes from the canal-side past as we hear Tom Rolt’s account of his journey up the Stratford upon Avon Canal (North) and the ‘battle for Bridge Number 1 (Lifford Lane).' At a time when many of us are feeling the strain of today’s network, Rolt’s account reminds us of just how far we’ve come — and of the grit and v...

Send us a text Stories have always been part of our world. From antiquity, stories create the light that help us find our way through the darkness. We need to rediscover those stories to help us face the dragons in our lives. Join us tonight as we listen closely to the summer wind play among the alders and hear a very old story that understands our modern world. Journal entry: 3rd July, Thursday “Walking up the hill. The grass crackles and scrunches With each step. If I clos...

Send us a text It is a hot midsummer night of warm winds that makes the Erica creak at her moorings. Tonight, we find ourselves at a year’s turning point — caught between the stillness and the unsettling. Join us as we explore the solstice, the shifting seasons, the rhythm of carnival swings, and the restless nature of the mind, uncovering the connections between them all. Journal entry: 16th June, Monday “Cresting The eternal now The carp and I Share the summer sun” Episode...

Send us a text Join us on a quiet night of summer rain as we listen to rooks and explore the beauty and ambiguities of two liminal places with a lot in common. We learn about the web-footed fenmen and are guided by Luke Sherlock to a ruined church under haunting skies. Journal entry: 6th June, Friday “We walk through the sheep field As the rain pours down. My boot socks still wet from last night. The rooks muster noisily at the One Oak. Even the magpies’ cackles...

Send us a text Welcome to tonight’s episode where ‘Erica’s Place’ by Mindshambles awakens a kaleidoscope of reminiscences about Mum and ‘elevensies’ and her never ending supply of fresh scones. As the different memories flow and glide past, it slowly becomes clear how much of ‘Erica’s place’ and Mum’s philosophy still lives on and unconsciously shapes these podcasts. Welcome to Erica's place. Journal entry: 20th May, Tuesday “The yellow flag are out. Unfolding the origami o...

Send us a text Tonight, we float upon a starfield of hawthorn blossom under a waxing moon. Why not join us as we continue with the final part of Mum’s account of the ‘totally worthwhile risk that was never regretted.’ Journal entry: 9th May, Friday “A westering sun Lays long shadows across The towpath and canal. Two geese in a field watch me from across the water. A pheasant’s rasp The scent of may.” Episode Information: In this episode I read the first part of John Clare’s...

Send us a text Join us tonight under a waning April moon as we think about the local ducks preparing for the ‘long sit’ and hear more about what happened to Mum and Dad after they had landed in Canada to start a new life together. Journal entry: 25th April, Friday. “Down in the engine bay De-rusting for painting. I am once more a clumsy adolescent. My feet grow too large and my knees and elbows get in the way. I no longer can bend as I once did. The march of time becomes vi...

Send us a text Tonight, clouds build as the high pressure breaks. Speculative gusts of wind kick blackthorn blossom ghostly white along the towpath and the full moon seeps heavy and watery through a blanket of cloud. Join us tonight as we continue hearing Mum's account of a risk that was totally worth taking. Journal entry: 7th April, Monday “Warm snowflakes Of blackthorn float and drift Along the towpath Among cowslip yellow And bluebell blue. The ...

Send us a text It's a spring, moonless night - not quite 'Bible black', but nearly! It's a perfect night for stories. Why not join us to hear the first part of Mum’s account of their great adventure when, 68 years ago, almost to the day, Mum and Dad embarked on a totally new phase of their lives. Journal entry: 26th March, Wednesday “The ash are heavy with bud Blistered garnet, raspberry- Shaped jewels That glow warmly in The low sunshine &nb...

Send us a text Along the towpath, the battle between winter and spring has begun with days of warmth and days of sleet. Although even the young ducks teach us a lesson in conflict avoidance. Join us tonight as we celebrate the lives of two people who were central to the creation of Nighttime on Still Waters. Journal entry: 12th March, Wednesday. “The day winds down. A last walk along the canal side. Pebbled rings form in the open water. A kick of sleet Drives against...

Send us a text Along the towpath winter slowly fades. If we are not quite in spring yet, we can feel it close at hand. Join us tonight as we celebrate the shifts in light and tone across the landscape and from deep within. Journal entry: 26th February, Wednesday “For me, there are few things more beautiful and soul inspiring than this: Rain on water, Old growth by the waterside, T...

Send us a text A winter’s night on the canal, starless and wind gnawed. A snug cabin with a warm stove. A hot drink in a favourite mug (and a biscuit or two). A cosy chair waiting for you. It’s just the perfect kind of night to curl up and listen to some accounts about life on the canals in winters past, when the ice was 2ft 6in deep. Journal entry: 14th February, Friday "Steel-grey half-light. Rooks swing round the naked oaks. The daily clamour of ...

Send us a text It’s a bitingly cold, sleety night. There’s a warning of snow in the forecast for later. It’s a perfect night to sit together around a warm stove snug inside the Erica’s cabin, while the wild world rages outside. The kettle is singing, the biscuit barrel is full. The night belongs to us. Journal entry: 7th February, Friday. “Yesterday’s spectacular Blood-orange dawn Has given way to a dawn Without colour or feeling. We pick our way between &...

Send us a textThere seems to be an awful of change happening recently, often unasked and with far-reaching consequences. Knowing how to deal with it can be difficult and lead us to feeling unbalanced and overwhelmed. Tonight, we try to find some still-points within the chaos. Journal entry:23rd January, Thursday“A robin, one winter, Riding out a sleety squall On the flailing branch Of pyracantha fire.He often springs to mind When squalls hit And my world lurches...