Happy to see you
The Choughs are back doing some gardening for me, and the sight of their ungainly walk and their happy family warms the cockles of my cold winter heart.
Falling down
Once I saw on the ground under trees blue fragments of a small egg. But were they from an egg that fell or one that had hatched? I didn’t know just what I should feel.
Survivor
Old age is being dropped into a jungle by parachute and trying to survive using only your wits.
Philatelic thoughts
Sometimes, when I am sorting my old English postage stamps, I wonder if this one or that one was a stamp my great great grandfather might have used.
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Seasons
Plumes of smoke on a cold Winter’s day bring thoughts of warmth and community and human busyness and achievement. Plumes of smoke on a hot Summer’s day bring thoughts of destruction and terror and loss and anger and failure.
Mine
I wonder what he was thinking, that first man who chewed a mouthful of pigment and then blew it over his hand pressed tight against the wall of a cave?
Love birds
Birds in pairs, galahs, magpies, rosellas, butcher birds, crows, peewits, birds in pairs, thinking of Spring.
Pastoral
“Listen to those contented cows mooing. Oh I love the sounds of the country” they say as they drive past a black herd in a green field. Not seeing, on the other side of the road, black calves, separated just last night from their mothers. Who are crying in pain and fear trying to get
Vale of the white horse
The white horse on the far green hill moves all day to a rhythm all her own, following clues in the pasture and the hill shape and the changing shadows from the trees, and some days, for no reason I know, he doesn’t appear at all, and I hope she is all right. He has
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Look through any window
Whether I am seven and a half or seventy five, the I who looks out of my window is the same I, no matter how he appears to those looking in.
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