It’s that time of year: wrapped bales stockpiled for winter feed in the corners of neighbouring fields, Gudgeon stacking cut wood for winter – ash and beech. Sheep, cattle and horses in every direction…the sound of tractors, quad bikes and chainsaws.
And though to keep my brain and body alive
I need the honey of the city hive,
I also need for nurture of the heart
the rowan berries and the painted cart,
the bell at noon, the scythesman in the corn,
the cross of rushes, and the fairy thorn. (John Hewett)
I find three hours in town is sufficient, then I’m good to go for another week.