dreams. Bronze Slow worm. hop flowers foxWood pigeon calling, calling me home Unpaved road. hidden reserveblue house farm. owl cam. sheep camouflaged ingolden fields. red sail passing. guiding us on. steps rising. onto the sea wall. Soft breeze cooling. flap of wings so close. skimming the surface of the dry yellow grasssmell of the seaweed Read more about Crouch Estuary[…]
Dragonflies and black-faced sheepan elusive grey legged goose rain comes. gentle at first land we’re undercover of the treesbut quickly it’s heavier. and we make for the wooden hides. Here we can sit shelteredsurrounded by the sights and sounds of nature’s intrigues Breathe, soften, release,And remember ourselves as a part of the universe expanding. Come Read more about Reservoir Days[…]
Swirling whirling clouds of past, present, future mixing and merging time. flowing back into an old place finding things I’d never seen before. Getting off the arterial roadsAnd beyond the back streetsthere’s golden fields.looking up above the houses. there are trees all around here. Just north a bit are some of the oldest oaks in Read more about Seeing the old with new eyes[…]
BBC R4 – Open Country – Green Pavementshttps://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m000lf9v
The Peace of Wild Things” Written and read by Wendell BerryListen When despair for the world grows in meand I wake in the night at the least soundin fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,I go and lie down where the wood drakerests in his beauty on the water, and the great Read more about The peace of wild things – Wendell Berry[…]
Jane Hirshfield JasmineAlmost the twenty-first century —how quickly the thought will grow dated,even quaint.Our hopes, our future,will pass like the hopes and futures of others.And all our anxieties and terrors,nights of sleeplessness,griefs,will appear then as they truly are —Stumbling, delirious bees in the tea scent of jasmine.
Here is midsummer. The time of purple and orange. Out of a Jurassic forest of foliage rise the polemonium spears. holding aloft their beautiful-blue purple flower clusters. While pink-purple rockets burst forth on the buddleia bush. And Orange hawkbit waft their devil’s paintbrushes highamong the tall spears of lucifers Crosimia and the low snaking tendrils Read more about Purple and Orange[…]
Verity Sharp listens to how the world’s musicians, sound artists and poets are responding to the Loss of species https://www.bbc.co.uk/sounds/play/m000kgsn
For a moment we hover at the Peak, the pinnacle, the turning point. And then the seasons turn once more. The sun begins to waneImperceptibly at first, the morning and then the evening, quietly begin to draw in. The slow descent into winter begins. So here we are. The hum of the distant motorway is Read more about The Return[…]
Death by noise. Unable to find Peace the whales run aground. My heart breaks. Lost words, Heartwood, Taproot. Rain makes the Earth solid not crumbly, allowing roots to get a sure hold. Breath out black sludge through your feet. Breath out black smoke through your chest. A cock’s crow blows in on the wind. Gust Read more about Wind[…]