Catching on the Fly - Rebecca W Morris and Matteo Delred. 

A writer and a photographer make a blog about each stop on the Cádiz Cercanias Renfe trainline. 

Irritation at the station

the sensation of words always flowing too freely

juxtaposed with silence.

Well, it wasn’t what I expected. 

I thought about the Marshlands - that stretch from Walthamstow to Hackney.

The geese migrating in.

Run chicken, run chicken, run, run, run. 

I didn’t know their necks were so red, long and sleek.

Clucking, gentle introverts hiding in trees. 

When a cat approaches I wait for the violence. 

On alert. Ready to intervene.

The grey cat curls up in the long grass under a branch. 

The chickens circle happily.

We always have one foot in our surroundings, the other foot somewhere else. 

We hear the birds, the wind, the clucks, bike wheels on gravel.

I remember jumping out the window of my friend’s crazed ex boyfriend’s house. 

We remember the time everyone laughed hysterically in a work zoom call. 

A failed greeting to a friend the other day as I rushed to the station. 

Wild ideas can come from nothing.

Boredom. Sameness. Predictability. 

We see a floating hat, an exploding egg, hands dancing to tell a story. 

We think about why people find violence beautiful.