Monday, 2 April 2007

I live in the Song of the Wind

Last Saturday morning I was up early and walked out from home before breakfast for some exercise. I stopped in a place where the footpath passed through the edge of piece of woodland. It was a sort of misty/hazy morning, Grey, with the hope of later sunshine. There was a decent wind and the air was cold, but spring-like. Often I can go out and not feel or sense anything, but today I sat in the shelter of a hedge and listened to the wind in the trees above me. It almost felt to me like a 'thin' place, as the Celts would have called it - place where the real world seems to give way and you sense another. I could hear a skylark singing high in a nearby field, a blackbird or robin singing too in the wood. But above all I was surrounded, high above and all around, by the waves of the wind. The leafless branches swayed in the tall oak trees anad I sat, listening, sheltering, being... and the thought that came to mind was that I live in the Song of the Wind.

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The hedgerows are alive with Dogs Mercury, Violets and Primroses. Cowslips and Greater Stitchwort are coming into flower. I was amused, after my thoughts previously on litter, to come across a sight for which I wish I had had my camera on me. Whilst walking along a roadside near Cockernhoe, with the steeply banked verge towering above me, to see high up and against the sky, three snails eagerly devouring the cardboard off an Asda orange juice carton lying on top of some grass.

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