Walking to work, Again

My bike was stolen last week. It was a good mountain bike. A Scott. I was sorry to see it go but there you have it. Fact is that there are many ways to get work. My favorite is to walk. My waterproof backpack keeps my gear dry and my cameras and sketchbooks. I walk through my creative workspace of wooded land most days, depending on the weather and time constraints. I like to look back on the posts and see the scenes of winter and spring and now summer. Passing by the Green woodpecker hole I sometimes see  the female leave the nest cavity. First her head and then her darting body. Today the estuary was full of swans as in years past. I wasn’t close, about half a mile from them, but 150 swans makes a white spread of feather in the landscape even from 1/2 a mile away.

 

 

The view from my workshop

 

 

 

 

The trees are fully laden now with leaves and nests and young. Squirrels and foxes make their mark on ground nested young, but surprisingly the branches are slowly filling with this years newborns.

 

These cones remind me of babies in a mother’s womb. Inside tiny seeds are being formed, by the hundred in this case. They are unformed as yet, nutrients flow through the sap to the tips of the branches and twigs and into the cones. There are thousands of cones on this giant tree that stand about 150 tall. The cones are swelling now. The seeds are forming and the cones will soon be fully developed ready to open to the warm sun and let lose the babies inside. How miraculous is that?

Swelling cones amass

The branches sway and jostle noiselessly away

Amidst the forest’s whispering playful

Dancing, partnering spruce and pine

Beneath those branches others dine

Upon the silent forest’s earthy floor

 

In the workshop I found a young born with a tail. It was dozy because of the cold snap and so I was able to get close enough for  a picture.

A wee timorous beastie

 

 

 

 

 

Have you ever looked closely at oak pores. Here are some close ups I took today for  my writing. I am amazed at the incredible diversity of woodgrain.

Oak’s open pores to see light through

And what about these too. Two trees as tall as each other with such contrasting leaf and shape. I though that this was so very beautiful. Tell me there is no God!

 

This moth found its way to the castle doors. Purest white feathery head and such lovely black spotting. 2cm long.

 

 

 

A pure white moth as silent as the dove

Alights upon the woodland stone beneath my feet

As if to greet me on my walk

Beneath the arching branches o’er my head

 

 

 

This is me working. Love your work and others will too! Share it.

What about this. Paul said it:

Now as to the love of the brethren you have no need for anyone to write you for you are taught by God. But I urge you, Brethren, to make it your ambition to lead a quiet life, minding your own business, working with your hands just as we commanded you. So that you will behave well toward outsiders and not be in any need!

 

How simple is that? Or, should I say, how difficult that is in this present life of dog-eat-dog ambition now hard wired into each one of us, or, on the other hand, how complacent we have become about such an admonition.

 

 

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