One of the totally unexpected developments from my totally unexpected relocation to the Honddu Valley, was finding a voice. Perhaps I felt fortunate to have survived the sudden termination of the previous chapter. That a miracle had delivered me safely and I had nothing to lose. Or maybe something in the storm that washed me up on what was to become a place so special to me, which tenderised or somehow sensitised my consciousness. Either way, it was there that it really began. It was there that broken things were rebuilt. It was there in the Honddu Valley that preconceptions were revisited and it was there that I felt the urge, the absolute necessity to communicate to how that process left me feeling.

The Honddu Valley Herald became a vehicle, a splint, a release valve, an elixir, a platform, a springboard, a highway and a journey. Thank you to everyone who has read, commented, laughed, cried, shared and engaged in these poems.

Time and Tide is the totally unexpected result of the first year or so of Honddu Valley Heralds, and I am both thrilled and grateful to see these early pieces in book form.