Thanks to Julie Barlow for another wonderful poem …
How the land rolls!
Its peaks and troughs littered with the copper glints of its season.
The water ripples beneath us, foraging into the reed beds, into bushes and crevices where a million creatures live.
Out of sight, until we’ve passed.
The breeze is like a baby’s breath, teasing the vines that drape over the water like outstretched arms, that wish to hold us forever in this place of peace.
And how the berries are still so thick amongst the hedgerows!
Rowan, blackberry, sloe, apple and rose hip.
Nature’s food. Their glinting russet tones speak to us….”Please pick me”.
This place, now hushed, has a thousand ghosts.
Time gone by.
How lucky we are to have passed this way … but for once.