I’d never heard of desire lines until I read this article by Amelia Tait in the Guardian in June. On reading it, I realised that there was a name – and a rather lovely one, too – for the paths I’d seen emerging on the meadow at the bottom of my garden during the lockdown.
Some of the paths over the meadow have been there for many years. But it was curious to see new ones being created. One, for example, runs parallel to a paved path, exactly two metres apart (see above image). Others crisscross the meadow seemingly more erratically – the result of the increased number of people choosing to take their daily ration of exercise in the most scenic spot they could easily reach from home.
My poem ‘Desire paths’ emerged in late June as a result of reading Amelia Tait’s article and then following the desire paths to get a feel for how they took the routes they now so clearly traced, without any conscious planning. I recently entered it into the Daily Telegraph lockdown poetry competition, and was delighted to be selected as one of the four runners-up. The Telegraph article is, unfortunately, behind a paywall, but here’s a screenshot of the poem:
* Since submitting the poem to the competition, my friend Clare Kelly, who teaches navigation,has alerted me to the fact that desire paths are also known as ‘desire lines’, and I prefer that as a title, so I’ve re-named it now, and am grateful to her for the tip.