We walked out in search of a place where the city begins and ends, where the river chatters away into its own mouth. We walked to the harbour gates where the Floating Harbour and the New Cut mix together and run out to the Bristol Channel and jumped across to a smaller island where you can walk along the top of the harbour gates.
We crossed back over and walked through Underfall Yard, a working boatyard halfway between Cumberland Basin and Baltic Wharf, recognising a restaurant boat from downriver was in the dry dock. We could see its spider plants and tables, high up in the air.
We wanted to walk in circles, to get lost and end up where we started. We started collecting circles like they were full stops or white pebbles leading us back out of the woods. Hopping from mooring post to mooring post, we met Edwin. And found a coconut in the weeds. And walked until the moon came out, another white pebble against the bright November sky.
Local short story writer Judy Darley used the circle frames from one of our earlier walks, taking us back to the beginning, to structure a lyric narrative for two voices. We wrote around each other, leaping from one circular frame to the next, producing this pleated poem of first loves, last loves, a guilty city and coffee-rings: C O N C E N T R I C