It's easy to feel a sense of magical awe when you're standing on the South Downs at night, looking up at the stars.
There's a soft wind, whispering secrets to you that you don't quite understand. You have an awareness of unseen creatures, scampering through the grass or curving through the dark sky on knife-edge wings.
And in the distance maybe, you can see the twinkling lights of the town.
When I lived in the city, I struggled sometimes with finding these moments of supernatural stillness. With the relentless noise, speed and never-ending light in your eyes, my mind always felt whipped up into some kind of sparkling frenzy.
These days, I am interested in exploring the possibilities for a sense of – for want of a better word – spirituality in urban environments. I still love to visit the city and a few times while there, I've had experiences similar to the ones I have on the Downs.
For example, standing on the Hungerford Bridge and looking out towards St Paul's Cathedral, watching the red lights of construction cranes dancing over the glittering buildings below. Wind blowing in off the Thames, tickling its fingers through your hair. Glimpsing moments of love, friendship or laughter in the people around you. Fantastic architecture soaring above you, standing as irrefutable testament that dreams can conquer challenges. The thrum of energy pulsing through the air and rumbling under your feet.
The magic is always there.