Eyes peeled, ears pricked, binoculars at the ready,
We spent a week at Wastor, on the edge of Dartmoor.
The woods were alive with birdsong, dawn till dusk,
So we took up the challenge (as all nature-lovers must)
We made a list!
First things first…
A patch of soft, springy turf,
Hot coffee from the flask,
A chocolate cake bar.
Tiny, intricate,
Fragile, delicate,
Precious purple petals
Pierce the dark forest floor
Like sparkling sapphires scattered
Among the leaf mould.
Breeze-blown clouds
Scud across the blue sky.
The view to Corfe crisp, clean,
Scoured by successive showers.
A flash of yellow golden wing,
In the April sun, dancing;
We welcome the good news they bring,
Heralding the spring.
Sermon for Palm Sunday, comparing the first Triumphal Entry of Jesus into Jerusalem with the second Triumphal Entry, when Jesus will return to Jerusalem to establish his eternal kingdom. He is coming soon!
Crows at low tide, inventive and clever,
Black beaks probing the mud to find
Cockles, whelks, slipper limpets.
They seize the prize, then fly up high
To drop the poor mollusc
Onto the hard tarmac path,
Again and again,
Until the shell finally cracks,
And the crow can enjoy the tasty treasure therein.
David Hugh Evans
Was famed throughout West Wales.
They called him ‘Y Siopwr Mawr’,
‘The Grand Shopkeeper’.
As I walked by the harbour on St David’s Day,
Among the ubiquitous black-headed gulls,
I noticed some more unusual rarities.
I looked through my binoculars,
and saw:
On the First Day of March, the Harbour Sent to Me… Read More »