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A song sings the morning into being

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a song sings the morning into being
bootstraps the world from dark nothing

notes flow out and tumble down the slope
heading over heels
bouncing off rocks, changing direction

eddying into backwaters, spinning a while
then petering out to a coda of afterthought

amber music drips onto rich brown music
even the splashes are music

the song sings new leaves onto birches
and paints the grass a deeper green

more colours incant the parts that were missing
filling them in
because the song has made its own light now

the song sings a bird to the top of tree
then stops

as the blackbird flies into the morning
the morning it has made

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There are several highlights for me that mark moments in the year – in nature. Many concern signs of spring – the first hazel catkins, the first Chiffchaff song ...

Hearing the first blackbird song is one of these highlights - usually in January or February and usually just before dawn. I heard the fi…

A Hazel in January

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rounding winter's grey corner
I'm sprayed in the face with paint
yellow points splatter my retinas

and then drip 

drops trailing vertical paths
like a thousand star speckled
wagtails bursting out of the sun

so impossibly bright tassels
rind of lime as tinsel
a burning hazel bush that
sears everything around it

its catkins strung
between earthed dull gravity
and a skyfull of living things
wanting to live

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It may well sound like I'm going way over the top about this catkin festooned hazel.

But it stopped me in my tracks. This gets me every year - but miraculously more so every year.

I doubt that I'd have been more moved by seeing the Mona Lisa. I'll even admit to welling up a bit. It just seemed to have every spring I've ever seen encapsulated in those early January catkins.

Just spring coming round again, nature doing its thing, without fuss of fanfare (except from me!), and life wanting to live.






Life is great!

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This a lot of life - where did it come from?
I sometimes find it instructive to look at an area and think what it would like without the living things. In short it would look similar to the dead, rocky surface of the moon.

Life has bestowed upon this, would be, barren surface a green cloak of living organisms. The breathing, growing, reproducing, eating, feeding, singing, scurrying, flying, flowering, beautiful exuberance – that is nature...

…and it all originates in space. Green plants trap the sun’s energy by photosynthesis allowing living things to rearrange atoms on the earth into living structures. These atoms ultimately originated in “The Belly of a Star” - almost every element on Earth was formed at the heart of a star.

I put a video explaining this process in a previous post Wren Song an Echo of the big bang

How were these numbers arrived at?


Birds
I know the numbers of birds on the patch more accurately than any other group as I’ve counted them! So I can say with a reasonable…

Word Magic

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"I know each lane, and every valley green. Dingle, or bushy dell, of this wildwood" - Milton
Arranweb Spider's Web; Lancashire Dialect Bleb An air bubble in ice; perhaps a variant of 'blob' Carr Damp woodland with alder or willow; Middle English

I been inspired recently by two wonderful books, Rober Mcfarlanes’s  “Landmarks
and Dominick Tyler’s “Uncommon Ground: a word-lover's guide to the British landscape”.  Both books explore the potency our nature language – the words that describe the places, hills, waters, weather, paths, fields and wildlife of our countryside.
I have compiled an A-Z of the patch, with terms that home in on a specific detail. These kinds of precise words help us to notice things, that might otherwise be overlooked, they root us in the landscape, give us a sense of place, they perform a kind of word-magic.
Delf Something that has been dug, such as a ditch, pit, mine, or grave; Old English Eawl-Leet (Owl-Light) The first l…