The weather has turned colder, bringing a lull in the rain-sodden autumn. The horizons of our days are pulling together. It’s a time of change, when the last shining berries are snapped up by hungry birds and the trees expose their skeletons. I’ve gone outside in the dark evening to scatter some food for theContinue reading “Hedgehog”
Author Archives: mudwriter
Fungus
The garden has become alive with fungal outgrowths, a rich result of prolonged warm, wet weather. I don’t even need to look to know they are there, as a rich umami smell drifts into my nostrils. They are difficult to find at first. The grass is covered by big heart-shaped poplar leaves, all yellow butContinue reading “Fungus”
Alien Footprints
It was a typically Atlantic autumnal day of warm blustering wind. This is the best time of year to stare up through the canopy, enjoying the stained-glass effects of reds, oranges and yellows. So, stare up is what I did, neck creaking at right angles to my spine. Staring up at a sky that couldn’tContinue reading “Alien Footprints”
Butterflies
Butterflies’ wild dance Metal flashes of colour Intense floral whirl
Snow
Putting on my ancient, blue anorak, shapeless and baggy in all the wrong places but warm, I shove the back door open. The old door is warped and damp, the bolt broken years ago, and it gives easily. I step out into the snow, which creaks under my feet, and pick up the bucket ofContinue reading “Snow”
West
My horizon is west. I root myself, the sun rising behind me, always finding my compass points from the west. Houses and rooftops now fill the flat field-scape that held my gaze and where I knew every scrubby hawthorn in its ragged borders. The sun no longer sets as it did, bleeding into the furrowsContinue reading “West”
On the Downs
Walking from East Ilsley to Stanmore. Blue sky and a biting cold wind. Chalk clay is milky and the soil composed as much of stone as of earth. The fields, with autumn-sown crops looking fragile and sparse, are speckled with turned over bedrock. From the gnarly skeletons of winter trees, the flint-sharp grating of fieldfares’Continue reading “On the Downs”
Otmoor
After a slightly frustrating day doing admin, I had an evening out at Otmoor with friends. It was one of those occasions when the different elements of nature conspired to make a perfect performance. On arrival, we were welcomed by a Song Thrush and soon after that a Cuckoo flew across, calling insistently. Two TurtleContinue reading “Otmoor”
I wish for you
I wish for you a bucketful of smiles infused with the warmth of summer evenings. I wish for you a daisy chain of luck. A perfect ring of fortune’s gold I wish for you a garden of calm cleansed by the breeze that gently sighs.
Mudwriter 