Last night on our walk in the fields nearby
we came across a hole in the hedge that was not there before.
The hedge at this point is very tall and thick,
and the new hole is therefore like a small tunnel.
We had to go through it of course.
Footprints in the mud indicate we are not the first
to take advantage of the new opening.
Like entering a worm-hole on Star Trek we plunge in.
After a few seconds of gloom we emerge
into the evening light in the field beyond.
This field, sweeping down to the railway,
with the beech grove to one side, is very familiar to us.
To get in we mostly use the stile or the kissing gate.
We have occasionally used one of the four field gates
or climbed the fence on the steep slope by the hay field.
We have entered this field many hundreds of times,
but never at this point: it’s like being teleported in.
Just over there is the dead tree with the woodpecker holes.
To be here so effortlessly is like breaking the laws of physics.
A woodpecker flies out of one of the woodpecker holes.
At the bottom of the woodpecker tree we find empty beer bottles,
scattered around by elements of careless local youth.
Another tear in the fabric of the world opens up.
We boldly pick up the bottles and carry them home.
Every moment is a step beyond the final frontier.
- September 2019
- June 2019
- May 2019
- September 2018
- August 2018
- July 2017
- October 2016
- October 2015
- September 2015
- August 2015
- July 2015
- June 2015
- May 2015
- March 2015
- December 2014
- August 2014
- June 2014
- May 2014
- April 2014
- February 2014
- January 2014
- December 2013
- October 2013
- September 2013
- August 2013
- July 2013
- May 2013
- April 2013
- March 2013
- February 2013
- January 2013
- December 2012
- July 2012
- April 2012
- November 2011
- October 2011
- August 2011
- July 2011
- June 2011