• Celandine Cinquain

    22 March 2021
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  • Throwing it

    18 February 2021

    Throwing pebbles at the roaring waves, Of crashing noise, of cold, salty sprays. Shouting nothings across the vast sea, From the deepest, darkest, parts of me. Sometimes you need to stand toe-to-toe, With wilderness out there, wilderness on show. Your storm settles, your tension expressed. The roaring and crashing can now, rest.

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  • January Thanks

    15 January 2021

    Thank you skies for clearing, grey clouds and foggy head. Thank you air for cooling breath, as we ran wherever hearts led. Thank you forest for holding us in miniature forests of heather, moss, and lichens. Moments to cherish, in January.

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  • The Gift of Yule

    21 December 2020

    And so it turns. Apparently the days will get brighter and longer from now on. There are many cold, hard days ahead before the strength returns to the sun and the Oak King, but the cyclic turning of the wheel of the year has to be comforting, especially this year. There has been so much goodness, appreciation, growth, light, and love this year. We are a very lucky family. We love and care for many other people, and know we…

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  • A Walk Through the Trees

    12 November 2020

    Exploring the forest with my kids is probably one of my favourite things to do. But there is something magical and life-giving about using my child-free Thursdays to get out in the forest alone. To listen to the wind in the trees, the birds hiding in the bushes, and my own breathing as I get to carry a brisk pace. Without little legs and imaginative meanderings, I get to raise my heart-rate and pound out some stress. Today’s walk was…

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  • Letting Go to Welcome

    3 November 2020

    The letting go of autumn feels just so fitting this year, The peak of our year’s outward energies curtailed, now released, Each feeling, hope, regret, sorrow, wish. Released, and let go, and in doing so, Leaves the true shape of who we were all along. Welcoming the inward winter.

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  • Passing Time

    27 October 2020

    Picking pumpkins during the wettest rain of the week – that was the last minute plan. I pulled on my big girl boots, rounded up the hibernating troops and a plethora of waterproof gear and headed over the river in search of seasonal rituals. But the clouds burst in such quick succession, we were treated to a sunny double rainbow over the fields. Our usual trick of timing our pumpkin ‘harvesting’ to the favoured day between there being full fields…

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  • Fungi

    22 October 2020

    The fruiting visual beholden in damp, Secretive but yet so stunning to spot. At once reminiscent of tiny worlds, Of miniature magic, of faeries and elves. But also of hidden underfoot sprawls, Webs of connection and soft growth unseen, Alluring contrast of feast or of death, A juxtaposed, umbrella-posed, quiet fungi stands.

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  • Deer

    27 September 2020

    There’s magic in the air. Can’t you just smell it, feel it, see it at this time of year? Yesterday Sam insisted on bringing our DSLR camera on a walk in the woods with his grandparents, as he wanted to “take photos of the deer”. Apparently the deer have been illusive out there all week, but five minutes into our walk, a small herd of Fallow deer appeared from the tree line on the next ridge. Slowly, one at a…

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  • Lightning

    23 April 2018

    Neck tingles, heartbeat stronger, I lurk by open windows and a door; Rooted in habitual safety, compelled to run wild. How does this electric force awaken primitive instincts, as well as my soul? A surge of potential energy through me, at every crack and fork. I imagine hair loose, standing unprotected, open to its force. A storm in the skies, every way that I look, But a clarity of awakening within.

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  • Frozen Hoards

    3 March 2018

    Crusted icing sugar and biting cold winds, Brought a hungry speckled cousin here, Surveying from swaying fir branches, On a fruit reconnaissance. Our luscious rosy crabapples, The spoils of pigeon feasts. A few still budded the boughs And signalled precious fare. The blush and grey-capped spy grows brave, And plucks one in its beak. On paper-white ground it pecks and feeds, Before the blackbird cousin charges forth. Four times this game of intrepid fieldfare, Back and forth from foe: The…

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  • The Birdwatcher

    22 January 2018

    “Hush” she whispers, tiny fingers to her lips, “Come Mummy; bird!” her eyes sparkle to meet mine. So down we huddle, noses to the glass, Her small person held in my lap. How still she can sit, when wonder enthralled. How fascinated by a young, scruffy blackbird, As it hops, cocks and pulls worms, Oblivious to the snoozing cat at the back of her play den. Together, two hearts, at the window tuned to a third, As the blackbird finds…

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  • Sprite

    5 February 1999

    She goes down to the cool waters, Sets boats of leaves afloat, She exhales their sails along the top, Of calming reflective pools. She sharply twists the bladed seeds, Watching spirals fall down. She taps the branches of Spring trees, Sending blossoms to the floor. She rings the bluebells in the woods, Peals of dappled light rocking. She puffs the clocks of dandelions, ‘Til small fairies dance about. She is the sprightly nature’s kiss, Who tends to all that’s good,…

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