A spring in my step

The bluebells are beginning to flower, which means my spring delirium will soon be in full flood and it's time to catch up on how early spring played out in my Bristol haunts.

Actually, Cwtch the Collie was unimpressed with our first bluebell. The initial signs are pleasing, though. This was Badock's Wood this morning.

And not just bluebells, obviously. 

Mill Tut round barrow

The River Trym

And here it is a couple of weeks ago, when the blackthorns were out in force.

Of course, not all our walks have been sunny. There was an atmospheric walk around the floating harbour early one grey morning ... 

... and another down Boiling Wells Lane and up onto Narroways, while I was waiting for new tyres to be fitted on my car ...

... but on the whole, March was definitely more a lamb than a lion. Here are some more of the flowers that are popping out all over.

white violets; alexanders; alkanet and larch buds; dog's mercury; scilla; blackthorn; celandines; comfrey; speedwell; wild strawberry; fumitory; lady's smock (cuckoo flower); pussy willow; wood anemone; honesty; yellow archangel; wild garlic; greater stitchwort; violets; herb Robert; dead nettles; lungwort  

Cwtch in the primroses

The Trym meets its main tributary, the Hazel Brook, downstream on the Blaise estate. I don't go down there that much, on account of all the well-heeled locals clattering past with their walking poles, pretending to be in the Alps, but I did nip down to the Henbury village end and wandered along the banks of the brook to Bradford Mill.

I also hobnobbed with two of my favourite trees in the open space above the valley:

oak

veteran sweet chestnut

On the other side of the Hazel Brook, blackthorn on Castle Hill. I love this spot in the early spring ...

... and also the area between the two hill forts on Castle Hill and Kings Weston Down, that always feels to me like a place where time is wonky and ghosts are on the move.

 

There was plenty of blackthorn out at Winterbourne too, when Cwtch and I went for one of our favourite walks out by St Michael's Church and Monks Pool and Bradley Brook nature reserves ...

Monks Pool nature reserve

Bradley Brook Nature Reserve

... though just the general viridification of everything is exciting enough.

The River Frome at Snuff Mills ... 

... Wickham Glen ...

... and Purdown

With the earth becoming less slippery, it's easier to scramble about on the look-out for bits of pottery. 

In one of the lanes leading down to Wickham Glen, some of the above sherds had been dug up by a fox ... 

 and at Purdown I came across lots of bottles outside a den on an old dump.

With the demise of all the scarlet elf cups, there isn't much fungi in evidence:

On the other hand, the local birds are now at their busiest and much in evidence, particularly the wrens. I managed only a few poor photos of a crow, ring-necked parakeet, and the kingfisher we often see down on the stretch of the River Frome between Eastville Park Lake and Wickham Glen.

There was also a magical afternoon when the wood was filled with jays, their wings catching the spring sunlight.

I found a rather tatty, bedraggled tawny owl feather, which is a very early outlier of the moulting season.

We even saw a rabbit up on Purdown, which ran into a thicket of brambles when it noticed Cwtch. 

Each morning in spring

I conduct with a baton

my dog's Ode to Joy

A Winter Solstice Advent Calendar ... and a road trip to Wiltshire and Wales

I suffer with the dark in winter, and December can be a real struggle for this and other reasons, so this year I decided to post a Winter Solstice advent calendar on my Facebook, to keep myself focused on the brighter days.

Here are the photos I chose, all taken in Bristol: at Blaise, Stapleton, Badock’s Wood, Horfield, the Floating Harbour, Filton, Purdown, Eastville Park, Lawrence Weston moor, and Three Brooks nature reserve in Bradley Stoke. 

The astute will notice there are only 20 photos and this year’s winter solstice falls on the 21st. This is because on Day 6, I couldn’t resist posting my little video of the Santas on a bike in the Floating Harbour.

One morning there was a stunning sunrise. I was headed due east and utterly mesmerised by it, but couldn’t take a photo because I was driving. Here’s what it looked like at daybreak, just before I left home.

I was on my annual Christmas trip to Wiltshire, to pick Jinny and her dog Millie up and take them to meet her parents at Pont Abraham Services in Carmarthenshire, who would drive the third leg of the journey to New Quay. 

By the time I arrived in Hilperton, the sun had risen into the thickening cloud and it looked a lot less stunning, but the canal, and Jinny and Millie's company, was anything but drab. 

It was great to be on a road trip and outside of Bristol for the first time since August, when my shoulder flared into huge pain that lasted for weeks. Sadly, there are no more photos, mainly because I was driving, but also because the weather took a drastic turn for the worse, and by the time we passed Cardiff, a very wet and sticky rain was falling - the sort that throws up a blinding spray and requires you to put the windscreen wipers on at full speed. At times standing water crashed across the carriageway like Hokusai's wave, but my charges were deposited safely and I made it home in one piece too. 

Millie, who is a very good dog indeed

Poetry byways and desire paths

I've taken some time to regroup lately, following a year of readings from Love the Albatross (IDP), my collection about estrangement. Engaging with such personal poems in front of an audience takes a big emotional toll, so a break has been due, and really welcome.

That said, I have been involved in a couple of group readings, both of which allowed me to read some of my (less exhausting) Bristol poems, from earlier collections. The first was a rerun of last year's 'Ten Bristol Poets' at the Bristol Literary Film Festival, in aid of St Peter's Hospice. This time we were promoted from the cafe to the main hall, where the lighting wasn't as conducive for taking photos; nevertheless, here's a few of the poets involved: clockwise from left, Tim Burroughs, Melanie Branton, Pete Weinstock, me, Charles Thompson. 

The other reading was with the IsamBards at Brunel's Underfall Yard in Bristol's Floating Harbour. 

The Matthew, seen through the round window

Fellow IsamBards, Pamli Benham and David Johnson

First set, with David, Dominic Fisher and Pameli

During the interval between sets, I took the opportunity to have a wander along Baltic Wharf, with its view over to the painted houses of Cliftonwood. My route took me past Albion Dockyard, with its familiar clock tower and the Banksy, Girl with pierced eardrum, which is now, sadly, beginning to fade. 

After our second set, it was home on the bus, via Hotwells Road and Jacob's Wells Road, where we had the delight of seeing a fleet of Santas on a bike, raising money for West Country children's hospices.

Elsewhere, I've had some of those aforementioned Bristol poems included in the Street! project run by Ralph Hoyte and Bristol Libraries, which has created soundpools containing site-specific poems outside various libraries in the city, which people can listen to through an app. Obviously I haven't, because even the thought of downloading an app brings me out in a rash, but I understand the soundpools are a joy and a delight, so that makes me happy.

Finally, after three long years of 'not writing any poems at all', I was shocked at the end of August to realise that I have actually produced some this year. Most of them appear to be on the theme of neurodivergence, and the first of these has now been published in Jawbone Journal, which I'm so pleased about, not least being amongst my friends-in-poetry, B Anne Adriaens, Melanie Branton, Rosie Jackson, Clare Morris, Alasdair Paterson, and Susan Taylor. Truly an honour.