{"id":97,"date":"2014-01-16T22:33:45","date_gmt":"2014-01-16T22:33:45","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/?p=97"},"modified":"2014-01-16T22:34:44","modified_gmt":"2014-01-16T22:34:44","slug":"last-time-i-was-in-devon","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/?p=97","title":{"rendered":"Last time I was in Devon&#8230;"},"content":{"rendered":"<p>I thought, here&#8217;s somewhere to run to. I don&#8217;t long for London&#8217;s cobbles, arches and corner pubs the way I once did, to be a wanderer in the mechanism. I&#8217;m crowd-shy and I don&#8217;t walk tall as I used to. In Devon, I liked the beer and the sea and the overwatching moor all silent and untenanted. We stayed in a stone-block farmhouse and you could hill-stumble down to the estuary, no sight of another, no sound but the lap and the leaf. And for a day or two I dreamed of running. But it&#8217;s the running he craves, you&#8217;re thinking, it&#8217;s the break and motion. Always another place that must be different, the endless swerving of here and now. But that&#8217;s why people fly away, change jobs, partners, brand of toothpaste, why they read and why they write, to keep running. I&#8217;m with the Greeks on this one, it&#8217;s all in motion from the first howl to the final, rasping suck when you&#8217;re out of puff and you&#8217;ve seen enough estuaries and rectories and ale and you&#8217;re ready to stop running. And I don&#8217;t get out enough these days.<\/p>\n<p><a href=\"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/house.jpg\"><img loading=\"lazy\" decoding=\"async\" class=\"aligncenter size-full wp-image-98\" alt=\"house\" src=\"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/house.jpg\" width=\"640\" height=\"461\" srcset=\"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/house.jpg 640w, https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/wp-content\/uploads\/2014\/01\/house-300x216.jpg 300w\" sizes=\"auto, (max-width: 640px) 100vw, 640px\" \/><\/a><\/p>\n","protected":false},"excerpt":{"rendered":"<p>I thought, here&#8217;s somewhere to run to. I don&#8217;t long for London&#8217;s cobbles, arches and corner pubs the way I once did, to be a wanderer in the mechanism. I&#8217;m crowd-shy and I don&#8217;t walk tall as I used to. In Devon, I liked the beer and the sea and the overwatching moor all silent [&hellip;]<\/p>\n","protected":false},"author":1,"featured_media":0,"comment_status":"open","ping_status":"open","sticky":false,"template":"","format":"standard","meta":{"footnotes":""},"categories":[2],"tags":[],"class_list":["post-97","post","type-post","status-publish","format-standard","hentry","category-henry"],"_links":{"self":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/97","targetHints":{"allow":["GET"]}}],"collection":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts"}],"about":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/types\/post"}],"author":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/users\/1"}],"replies":[{"embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcomments&post=97"}],"version-history":[{"count":2,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/97\/revisions"}],"predecessor-version":[{"id":100,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=\/wp\/v2\/posts\/97\/revisions\/100"}],"wp:attachment":[{"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fmedia&parent=97"}],"wp:term":[{"taxonomy":"category","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Fcategories&post=97"},{"taxonomy":"post_tag","embeddable":true,"href":"https:\/\/henrybrook.com\/index.php?rest_route=%2Fwp%2Fv2%2Ftags&post=97"}],"curies":[{"name":"wp","href":"https:\/\/api.w.org\/{rel}","templated":true}]}}