4.5.2014 – wild garlic and the rookery
The stream burbles delicately past the semi circle of felled logs on a cleared mud bank. Surrounded on all sides by blue bells and Wild Garlic. The scent is heady and transports me away in centuries rather than minutes.
Over hanging trees are beginning to shed their blossom and the delicate birdsong of the wood encircles.
Overhead though the incessant bark and grawwww of rooks breaks the idyl serenity. The fight and squabble. Black coats , spread fingered flight and a reminder that there is always dark to counter the light