Journey of Words

Tag: Nature

  • Day 5

    The first sounds in the grey before light come from a crow; three croaky caws that disturb a pheasant. The wind has swung round again. Now from the south-east with bitterness unabated, it takes all the heat from the air. Sky is blue; the Sun piercing bright. In early afternoon, up on the track, two →

  • Day 4

    Catkins, cast adrift from willows by gusting draughts, litter the garden. The grass looks as if plagued by woolly, dusty caterpillars that have emerged from below. The week’s washing flaps and tugs on the line. The wind has turned to the east. It bites at the skin and catches in the throat. Today the Spring →

  • Day 3

    Early to the heath accompanied by birds in full song. A red kite hangs above the oak trees trying to get a fix on breakfast despite the gusting northerly. Three other birds of prey wheel, hover, patrol the ridge. From the still sodden fields curlews agitated cries cut through melodies of dunnocks and robins; contrast →

  • Day 2

    Immersed in work online while your day with formal interaction progresses from tense to harrowing. Here grey, gloomy sky with occasional rain. I empty the compost bin into the black plastic Dalek composter that is alive with a tangle of fine, writhing, pink worms. Night comes early. Good night wishes exchanged by text. . CLP →

  • Day 1

    Separation noted, but immaterial due to the overwhelming richness and strong presence of your voice. . CLP 18/03/2020 →

  • On Song (III)

    ChristophercanyouturnGeorgeHarrisondownasIamtryingtosingalovesongheremate! . n.b. Working with music on and the window open hasn’t gone down too well with the bird on the fence. . CLP 20/03/2020 →

  • On Song (II)

    Tweet me! Tweet me! Tweet me! . I tweet you! I tweet you! I tweet you! . n.b. And you think ‘The Archers’ is drivel? Listen to the call and response of some of our more insistent and persistent feathered friends. . CLP 20/03/2020 →

  • On Song

    I don’t know when I last saw a wren Sitting on a tree top Singing like it can’t stop . n.b. Usually shy, scurriers and flitters seen low to the ground in dense undergrowth, it is rare to see one high in a tree singing proudly. Unless it wasn’t a wren, of course. . CLP →

  • On Spring (iii)

    Your hair turns lighter White blossom tints cherry trees Sun shines in your voice . CLP 18/03/2020 →

  • On Spring (ii)

    Flowers thrown open Sun pours in, loosens pollen Air fills with mystery . CLP 16/03/2020 →