Early morning Spring mist veils the waking landscape with the uncluttered freshness and innocence of a new day. What could be better than to spend the day with John Clare walking beside my favourite local Arun river.Continue reading “A Spring Day with John Clare”
About Wordsworth’s Lakeland people say “You may leave the Lake District, but once you’ve been, it’ll never leave you…” His unforgettable poetry rings through these hills and dales and over this lovely Grasmere lake – ‘The loveliest spot that man hath ever found’.Continue reading “Wordsworth’s Wonderful Lakeland”
With a dream of spring the countryside and our gardens wait expectantly. This is a creative season bursting with possibilities. There’s poetry in the air.Continue reading “A Dream of Spring”
Sing on sweet thrush, upon the leafless bough,
Sing on sweet bird, listen to thy strain,
And aged winter, mid his early reign,
At thy blythe carol, clears his furrowed brow.’
The other day (Feb 1st ) I was sitting indoors when I heard a sound for which I am always waiting at this time of year. Opening the window, there it was, loud and clear, crisp and melodious—unmistakably the first Song Thrush—right on cue, singing its heart out claiming a territory for itself. It’s my favourite songbird, especially because it is the first bird to sing. It gives us so much pleasure by its beautiful solo performance – a herald of the dawn chorus to come, causing ‘aged winter to clear his furrowed brow’.