tales from the riverbank

Scout enjoying a dip in the Nadder. She hoped she'd find some sardines in there as she'd very much enjoyed some she found in an open tin on the kitchen work top. She reminded me that she hadn't actually been fed.

A beautiful juvenile kingfisher at the wild life hospital. It had flown into a windscreen but happily was able to return to the river after a week of rest. A real jewel on the river banks.

Dear Harry recovering in the stable from his steroid jab for arthritis. Sadly he's unable to pull the cart any more.

Scout enjoying some leftovers she's found in the horses' field. She reminded me that she hadn't actually been fed for some time

Rocket had such a success as an influencer that he is starting a keep fit channel on the lines of Joe Wicks. He suggests you do this pose continuously until you fall over. He was very much encouraged by Pocket the cat below (even though he thinks that exercise is over rated.)

"A cat in mittens catches no mice," he tells me. Do you catch many mice from that position? I ask. He told me it was a personal technique which he was very passionate about. Nothing great in the world has been accomplished without passion he says without bothering to open his eyes. 

Hegel said that I said. 

Did he catch mice? Pocket mumbles. Then he informed me he thought he might go to sea and did I have any pea green paint or know any owls he could go with.

Scout out shopping. She has reminded me that I hadn't actually fed her (for at least two weeks)

The dahlia season is upon us - all change in the cutting garden.

Change and Transition

I watch the owl

staring at me from the tythe barn roof

and wonder how I can change from

my earthbound self and appear

at night with silent wings and piercing eyes

gliding over the moonlit fields

plucking the odd vole from the corn

that sways in the silver light.

I watch the vulpine fox rolling in

the dewy grass and wonder how

I can change and scatter the seed heads

as I run through the fields like him.

I stand at the edge and see

the furrows change to green shoots

and yellow corn and brown stubble

and think that one day I will no longer

be me who is earthbound but will go back 

into the earth and become the corn

and I'll be fed to the vole who will feed the owl

and that way I'll reach the skies.

Linda Coggin