A Welcome Spark.

I miss writing my blog. It’s been a major cornerstone of my life for nearly three and a half years, and I miss it. It’s just that I have no spark at the moment, you see; nothing to set alight the need to communicate.

This evening, however, there was a brief glimmer of something smouldering in the tinder box. I took a late evening walk since the air was cool but mellow, and I was surprised at just how rich and vibrant the verges and the hedgerows are this year. I don’t remember ever having seen them look quite so splendid on a cool but mellow June evening. Having said which, they reminded me of my childhood, and of June holidays spent in Devon with my parents. So maybe I have seen them looking so splendid before.

And then I spent quite some time standing at the top of one of the leys looking down to the valley. Few distractions have remained constant throughout my life, but one of them is my fascination with those unsettled western skies in which might be seen the head of a bear, or a stomping ogre, or maybe a dragon hung in suspended animation between heaven and earth. They shift their shapes, textures and colours slowly, but always there is that tantalising combination of havoc and promise.

I talked to the ash tree in Church Lane, too. I reminded him of that cold, snowy night last winter when I visited to pay my respects, while Orion hung resplendent in the dark clarity of a different western sky. An unknown little bird flew close and chirruped at me. I said ‘Hello. It’s very nice to make your acquaintance.’