You can travel the world on a Hebridean beach.
Each outgoing tide leaves behind stories: flotsam, jetsam, bookshelves and messages in bottles.
Or you can stay at home and wander the lampposts of Edinburgh.
Some poles include only the tight-packed prose of traffic regulation orders. Others are adhesive palimpsests, competing tales like barnacles encrusting rocks.
Berlin ‘s illicit drug scene features often, as do fascist football casuals from across the Continent.
Alternatively fashionable pop-ups, indie bands and wandering DJs promise much and rarely leave addresses.
But sometimes there are little mysteries which can be explained. Like these two thought-provoking purses recently attached to East London Street.
They are by Jeremy Germain Lutes, a contemporary Nova Scotian-born poet who ‘finds writing to be an outlet and a way to share his personal ideas.’
He appreciates ‘family, friendship, and other risks’ in few words.
Some of them on lampposts.
