Releasing a rescue hedgehog.
Speaking for the Unspeakable
The garden speaks continuously, day and night. It has spoken since long before it was enclosed ninety years ago, and it will never stop unless it becomes concreted ground. Even then it will speak again; just give it time. It has always been heard, we hear it all every day and read it continuously, but its messages are not conveyed. They remain within us.
Autumn arrived late this year just in time for winter and for the leaving.
Looping the Lune
A four-mile fool-proof circular walk alongside the river that gave Lancashire its name.
August is the month when the unspoken garden stops and thinks. Things still grow, but the growing is slow. The knowing does its growing.
Proclaiming the triumph of the unspoken flowers.
Summer solstice: a natural crime story.
Horticultural heat, hammock-time again. Flies that hover and can carpet-bomb, hedgehogs braving the road, frogs inside a goblin; and those dusky lips.
The man with the missile is masturbating His shadow splats onto the garden He thinks he is making history Heaven knows he's making a mess The equinox will re-stock the garden It won't be easy this year The east reheats the cold war There are sentries in spades at the lych-gate When a man without … Continue reading Unbalanced Equinox
Bracken rules the carrion roost. He’ll hide any cadaver. He’ll launder immoral earnings. He’ll raise an army. He’ll muster rebels. He’ll occupy territory.