Acts of enclosure
A patchwork from above.
Keeping mine from yours.
And those cows
From that Kale.
But with a beauty with which a strip of wire (electrified) cannot compete.
A delight through the seasons, hawthorn blooms mix with brambles. Home for so much wildlife. Here through the ages. Trysts long ago forgotten. A discarded copy of razzle.
It’s the sloes I seek. First frost has passed and I hope I’m not too late. I search, walking alongside the hedges. Midas has been down before me. Touched the leaves that stubbornly cling to the trees.
But I see my purple treasure.
And pick.
- Category: General / Misc
- Tags: hedgerow, Nature, foraging
5 comments add one below
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Neville Hunt over 7 years ago
Ah, sloe picking...good for the spirit...and a super drabble too!
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Lisa Williams over 7 years ago
I see what you did- v good! Thank you X
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Lisa Williams over 7 years ago
Swooping down (like a wren) love it- thank you as ever Drew X
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Neville Hunt over 7 years ago
Is the wren symbolic? The class my wife taught was called Wrens due to her diminutive size. Like a wren she was quite proud of that.
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Lisa Williams over 7 years ago
Well, I have a lot in common with them. Small. Dumpy. Loud.
Bear with... I've got a drabble about a wren somewhere. Also have one in a nest of my favourite pebbles on my desk. Just like them X
