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.
Fieldwatch
More white flowers than a high-class wedding
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.
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.
Pond life
Despite last autumn’s constant rain, this is a water-deprived area.
A hare in the field
‘Every field should have a hare’ - J Lewis Stempel
Enchanted wood
Some landscapes are woven with magic.
A Cotswolds vantage
Old Walterbush Farm lies at the highest point of my walk. At 750 feet above sea level it’s where the rolling waves of the Cotswold landscape finally crest before flowing out eastwards