Kindling young dreams of the wild
The Quest I’m going on a hike into the heart of a legend. My path skirts the mountainside – descends a deep forest, densely overgrown with ancient oaks in huddles of hundreds and vaulting hills above each half of the valley “Into a forest ful deep, that ferly was wylde Highe hilles on uche a …
Wood sorrel, buttercups, blackberries, holly. Shoots, flowers, seed-heads, dead stalks. Buds, leaves, blossom, bare bark. Seasons keeps our feelings and memories ebbing and flowing like the sea. Every year is different from the last, yet all roll on forever with their endless rhythm. In the greek myth explaining how the seasons came to be, …
The only appropriate response to the lush green of this time of year, the only way not to be quite washed away by that overwhelming sense of newly flowing juices, is to eat the spring. Those greens are just as sweet and tender as they look...
It’s early October, and out of the window I can see the spread of the garden. Only now and then, the light falls so that a string of spider’s web becomes visible, half-grasped by the air, a shining line. The leaves of the cherry reflected the golden-green of the late sunshine, and behind, after …
I'm going on a hike into the heart of a legend. My path skirts the mountainside - “Into a forest ful deep, that ferly was wylde Highe hilles on uche a halve, and holtwodes under For hore okes ful huge a hundredth togeder” Here are some clues as to the colour the legend is …
As Kingfishers Catch Fire 