Spring comes early here. Delicate and lemony leaves fill the hedgerows. By the time we return, foxgloves will be flowering again on the lane. Truth be told, it's hard to leave. The privilege I feel turning into my sixth decade is overwhelming. Early losses meant that I may have lived a little tentatively, now my grip on life . . .
Home
Clinging on in the storm The storm hit hard and I was in the thick of it swerving back and forth in 150k gusts. Finally reaching the warren of back roads nearest home, it dawned on me; I was crazy to be out in this weather! Of the many possible routes, three turned out to be blocked by fallen trees, and after . . .
Expect the unexpected……#Pilgrimage ~ February
I've been watching small birds feeding on the table outside my window. Cautious at first, nervously swooping in and out. They pause and rest, for seconds at a time, and then they are on edge again, perching precariously. In the midst of them I found myself wobbling too and wondering what planet I was on when I decided . . .
Growing up and growing old
They were born here on the lake last spring. Swans often don't survive that first year, foxes or mink take the young eventually. These two are about 9 months old, hiding amongst the reeds, tall and strong. My own chicks have been here for a few weeks. All six footers with beards and long legs, they are . . .
Sentinels
There are times, when in the stillness, we stand like sentinals on what is left of our tangled wilderness...... . . .
The beating of wings
It's usually early morning. A time when I am half asleep. A time when I am mulling over so many "important things". Maybe during breakfast, this is the moment when they decide to take flight. First there is the unmistakable sound, the loud beating of wings. The start is a little clumsy as they raise their heavy bodies into . . .
Fodder for the soul
Are we sharing similar thoughts as we watch the cattle being fed? Fodder. Winter. Action. The structure of everything is revealed by winter, so I am aware of this Robin following me. It's a territorial thing with Robins, they own the place. Making my way along the lane, he continually swoops on ahead always landing in . . .
Blackcurrants and Blackbirds
We had far too many and the plan was to make a liqueur. Blackcurrants make a wonderful boozy drink called Cassis, perfect for Christmas, when it should be ready for drinking. KIR Royale, a mixture of Cassis and Champagne will never EVER be forgotten, once tasted. It's the perfect cocktail at a party for two............preferably in . . .
~Tending to a nest amongst the pinkest fritillaries~
While meditating on dewy daffodils and the pinkest fritillaries underfoot, I see her swooping in. Even with a dozen or so humans chatting beneath her nest, she carries on incessantly. Over and back, a short stop on the fence post and one final dive under a window ledge. Carrying more than she can easily manage (enthusiasm and necessity) she keeps . . .
Her labour
Her labour Salty finger tips cling to aching wrist. Pumping elbows, hang from cliff hanger shoulders. Taut chords strangle the hardened neck. Delivering a weighty head through brain blowing tedium. Leaves tangle and soak her skin. Cool on cheeks, all hot from google alerts. Eyeballs . . .
