About Me

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Bristol , United Kingdom
Poet and poetry facilitator. Neurodishevelled. My sixth poetry collection, Love the Albatross, is available from Indigo Dreams or directly from me.

Monday, 21 June 2021

You go your way and we'll go ours

Still not going anywhere much. Partly because of the pandemic; partly because of family stuff; partly because I've been writing a pamphlet of poems about the meadow and the wood and the common for the Creative Project part of my MA, so while that's under way, why go anywhere else? 

It's exactly a month since my last post about our patch in the north Bristol edgelands, and it's been lovely up there - less rainy than most of May, not as dry as April. The growth, particularly these last three weeks, has been stupendous. 

Here's Charlton Common on 31st May ... 


... and here it is, just over a fortnight later on 16th June. The fence post is almost lost in growth and in some places the vegetation is as high as me.


Some evenings the light has been so beautiful ... 






.. which is all the more precious when you remember where we are: in the industrial edgelands.



Which reminds me ... sunsets, there have been loads ...  









Even on nights when there's no light - like midsummer's night (again) - there's some colour in the field at least.



Although some cloud does enhance a sunset, especially after the sun's gone down. In fact, it's a rare sky that isn't improved by some.






You can see a picture book moon in this sky. There was a lovely full one, too. 



As for trees, the may was still blossoming in June, just as the elders were barging backwards into a month not named for them.



May in June


Morrisesque elderflowers

The cow parsley endured too: here's some having a bedtime story read to them by one of the oaks in the field.



The hollowing oak is still imprinted on the inside of my eyelids, and another of the younger, small oaks is boasting oak galls ...  


... while, when we can, we sneak around the golf course to admire Gordon the ash tree's splendid root system. 


As for flowers, at the end of May, just when I thought the early shift was over, it shifted down the field instead ... buttercups and lady's smock.


But now we're well into the summer shift of sorrel and hogweed - and the first creeping thistle ... 
 

... and red clover and white clover ... 


... and vetch and meadow vetchling ... 


... and dog roses ... 


... and hedge woundwort ... 


... and lady's bedstraw ... 


... goat's beard, I think ... 


... field bindweed ... 


... bird's foot trefoil by the pond ... 


... and my favourites, a crescent of moon daisies. 


The new pond on the golf course is beginning to be colonised ... 


... but I can't help feeling there are fewer insects about than last year. This is based on nothing other than a feeling, so not very reliable. There's lots of cuckoo spit, and lots of buff-tailed bumbles ... 


... and quite a few thick-legged flower beetles among the buttercups.


Snails and slugs have abounded ... 


... but there have been fewer ladybirds and butterflies. Then again, we go out mostly in the evening, so my impressions are far from scientific. 


Tortoiseshell butterfly


Speckled wood butterfly

Last year we frequently saw a kestrel hunting in the field, and an occasional barn owl. We haven't seen either for months, but maybe they're still there and we just haven't coincided with them.

We have, however, glimpsed a heron a couple of times in the otherwise unfrequented main pond. 


On the other hand it was a year before we saw a roe deer in the wood, and another month before we saw one in the field. In the last month we've had three further sightings. Just happenstance, I suppose.

Here I am, doing my best David Attenborough impression.


Lastly, here's two of my favourite other mammals, one of them celebrating his birthday. 





You go your way and we'll go ours



Saturday, 12 June 2021

Ticking boxes in Weston-Super-Mare

Like - I should imagine - most people who believe it exists, I'm not convinced the pandemic's done with us yet, so it's a question of ticking the mother box while we can. Last week it was a trip to Nottingham with my children; this week, as she's in Weston for a few days with my niece and her fiancé, I drove down my aunties, Mollie and Janice. 

Except the trickle of relatives became a tsunami, with the two locally-based brothers and their wives joining us. Which meant that by the time I arrived in Weston with the aunts, having diverted to an industrial estate on the outskirts of the town to try to find an emergency toilet for one of them, there were six elderly people, with a combined age of 496, and my rather nonplussed niece and nephew-in-law, who weren't actually nonplussed at all for long, hooray, as they are a nurse and an OT respectively, and, although working in paediatrics, very capable indeed. 

Luckily, it wasn't raining and there was a park two minutes' walk from the rented flat, so we got everyone there by a mixture of car, wheelchair and walking stick, and my niece and her fiancé went off to get fish and chips, fruit juice and compostable plates and cutlery, while I organised another toilet run. And the fish and chips were deemed Very Good Indeed, as were the views from the park and the flat, and they all caught up with each other (with the exception of my aunts and uncle in Devon and Cornwall). And it felt good to facilitate that during this horrible Time of Separation. 





Birnbeck Pier in dire need of some love


Beach, mud, Grand pier, marine lake from the flat


Pier, mud, Brent Knoll, Brean Down


Brean Down and Steep Holm


Steep Holm, Flat Holm hidden behind the trees, and the coast of Wales


Saturday, 5 June 2021

Road trip to Nottingham

I went on a road trip to Nottingham to see my mother yesterday - the first proper visit since last August, with only a flying visit on my birthday last October, when she was down in the West Country for my uncle's funeral. I lived near my parents for most of my life, and so don't have missed time to make up for, but nonetheless, it's hard when your close relatives are old and time is limited anyway, without a pandemic to contend with.  

We had a good day, though, and when I was leaving and she got tearful, I could remind her that she's having a short break in Weston next week, courtesy of my niece and her partner, and I'll be bringing her sisters down from Bristol to see her, God help me, so that was OK.