Wednesday 14 February 2018

14th February 2018

The sky is so clear this morning - it is mirror smooth and razor bright. The larches on Sunrising cut the crisp dawn with their jet black crowns. In the hedge beside the window a blackbird tries out its spring song. The notes rise and flute among the branches. Even in its hesitancy it is perfect...

... but now? Now the rain slants against the landscape. Crystal lances. Sharp and ice-hot. And the rooks don't seem to notice.

Monday 12 February 2018

12th February 2018

Two magpies hooliganing in the middle of a salt-bleached road.

White highway and sunlight among so many browns.

For some reason it reminds me of the seaside dreams of childhood,

that smelt of tar
                  and starfished nets,
                                      and home.