Cumulonimbus
Cloud poem
Old country ways
A chatter, then a chink, made me turn round. Flash of feathers, black and white, and it had gone, out of the kitchen window.
Silent sparks
Tired travellers under a sullen sky, we pass the sheds behind the taverna. Then an earthly shooting star appears. A firefly, looking for love.
Across the earth, across the sea
A stocky brown cow approaches the water. She sniffs it and hesitates, lifting her head up. Behind her the herd baulks and shuffles.
‘A symphony of ancient trees’
I’m at a music festival. I’m lying on the ground and letting the sound wash over me.
Fieldwatch
An hour of observation (nature writing class challenge 2 June 2023)
Two trees
Here’s a poem for you. Only I haven’t written it yet.
Hunting Country
When I was ten, a man cut off a fox’s tail and used it smear blood on my face. I had been ‘blooded’: a hunting rite of passage.
Modern nature, Dungeness
Prospero in a djellaba,
scattering seeds
on the flint shore
of England's only desert.
Buckthorn, bugloss, poppy, sedum.
Pond life
Despite last autumn’s constant rain, this is a water-deprived area.