Saturday, July 14

Glass half full

Another magical morning (tres quiet…blue sky). A sparrowhawk flew point as I drove down the track, maintaining its precise position through each and every turn. Everything is alive with butterflies, all sorts of fritillaries, large whites and meadow browns – zillions of buzzing insects and scurrying creatures. A wonderful time to be alive.

Am sitting outside the barn, two green woodpeckers at my feet – feasting on insects among the rotting planks. Eye-catching birds with green plumage, bright yellow rump and red head. 
But most the Hewel’s wonders are, 
Who here has the Holt-esters (forester) care. 
He walks still upright from the Root, 
Meas’ring the Timber with his Foot; 
And all the way, to keep it clean 
Doth from the Bark the Wood-moths clean. 
He, with his beak, examines well 
Which fit to stand and which to fell.

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