January 2012

Walking through a clear-fell mess of destruction in nearby woods.

Rippling, cloud-filled pools,
Neat-stacked logs amid chaos.
Wren reclaims his turf.



First hints of Spring.

Blackbird song begins.
Spring perks up tired verges with
celandine bouquets.


When you do get the occasional blast of sunshine, it’s almost shocking – and very beautiful.

The low sun transforms:
The rushes, needles of light;
Pools, blinding mirrors.


Water, water everywhere…

Faded hillside shines.
All around are water sounds.
Frighted frog dives.


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