86.
Mid January.
In the 2 hours of warm sunshine a yellow brimstone butterfly has woken from its winter hide and dips into the grass humps and marjoram seed heads running the river banks. From a blackthorn thicket 2 yellow hammers pipe weakly. But to me it is a strong song, a joy to hear which gives me a sharp pang of hope for spring. I heard a song thrush at some point in my stroll but couldn't place it.
The relationship with landscape: its shapes and sounds and memories; they are like a pocket book. I will look at it occasionally when I`m too old to be out there and when there are other landscapes to deal with, and say, this is the way it used to be, this is how people like me experienced it.
Mid January.
In the 2 hours of warm sunshine a yellow brimstone butterfly has woken from its winter hide and dips into the grass humps and marjoram seed heads running the river banks. From a blackthorn thicket 2 yellow hammers pipe weakly. But to me it is a strong song, a joy to hear which gives me a sharp pang of hope for spring. I heard a song thrush at some point in my stroll but couldn't place it.
The relationship with landscape: its shapes and sounds and memories; they are like a pocket book. I will look at it occasionally when I`m too old to be out there and when there are other landscapes to deal with, and say, this is the way it used to be, this is how people like me experienced it.
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