short stories
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Duelling Hares
The beautiful Brown Hare, Lepus Europaeus is a gentle, shy, quiet and solitary creature by nature, spending all its life on open ground. Hares can be found on agricultural land, around the edges of woodlands and prefer a ‘hilly’ terrain enabling them to escape uphill quickly away from danger. You will often see hares in the company of a cock pheasant, an extra pair of eyes alerting the hare of any potential predators. However, some have moved closer to towns and villages and have made their homes in local churchyards and cemeteries, where a vast array of grasses, wildflowers, mosses and lichens grow in abundance.
Only Patches
There have probably been some difficult patches in all our lives, times when someone we know and respect have spoken harshly and thought less of us, leaving us feeling demised. I too have experienced this recently when a man approached me with his patronising smile and as cold as an ocean shell. Shooting from his lip he mocks my condition; his tongue is impressively matter of fact and I am shocked at the brevity of his remarks.
In Drowsy Wakefulness
As I arrive at this special place I reflect back to when the magic of nature breathed heavy on my mind, when it first felt the fall of my feet and where daisies and buttercups gladdened my sight.
Once upon a Dream
In the windless noon, the flaunt of the sunshine on this sultry day and the cirrus clouds above help to absorb the moment’s meaning. As I observe the sights and soundscapes, I gaze across the daisied meadow watching the motionless eye-winking cattle basking in the sun.
All things bright and Beautiful
A robin sang low and sweet, then a moment of magic greeted me, a more melliferous sound, a lark suddenly rises just in front of me and stops me in my tracks. I watch him ascend until I can see him no more. I can also hear the bravura of the bustling growing crops and watch a lonely swallow scooting obliquely high and low scything over the tender bowed locks of barley.
The seaside Adventures Of Woodrow the Woodlouse
Woody the woodlouse makes his way home from school one day; He couldn’t wait to tell his mum what Mr. Slater his teacher what he had taught him in the classroom. .
The Life of the Little Brook
After days of heavy rain the little brook had become dimmed and occluded by a great muddy morass. But now the muffled wind with its waft brought the sound of a slow trickle, having found a heavy boulder it made its first song.
By the Riverside
Here where reeds and waterlilies flourish is a place where herons and kingfishers dwell. In the morning the rain had fallen and hung the leaves with tears, but now the sun is shining bright and as it hits the heavy raindrops they shine like crystals.
Let The Moments Linger
A youthful looking man with a look of intelligence and sensibility approaches me, “Why bother” he bristles, “Why tell your stories, no-one will listen? This is what you should be talking about, this is what people want”. He thrust his phone into my vision with images of space and science fiction; “This is the future” he said. This came as a thunderbolt to me and I listen intensely to what he has to say.
The Nature of Flight
Being fully awake and with the soft magic of the half-light dissolved like mist, I stare in slack mouthed silence as squirrels hurriedly ripple across my path, their spines undulating like waves along a skipping rope. They have become startled by the rooks alighting in the great oak tree. Rooks have a more discerning scent and lead a flock of starlings to an area rich in food. They have a more delicate feel in their beaks enabling them to detect food from a greater distance so have formed a beneficial relationship with the starlings, the rooks also acting as a ‘look out’ for predators on open ground which can be readily observed.
Blue’s Countryside Adventures
As Blue and I enter a narrow country lane where finger posts and forgotten milestones are half hidden amongst the wild grasses and where dandelions are blowing abound with seed, Blue relishes the incomparable pleasure of discovery. As I look up at the watery sky I watch the blue arrows team of swallows swerving and swooping picking off insects as they go. I can hear in the distance the sound of ‘Great Tom’ the famous church bell of St. Thomas and The Holy Rood, what a wonderful sound he makes with a head, shoulder, a waist, a lip and a mouth but also a wonderful voice.
The Edge Lands of our Waterways
I awake early as the day dawns and the morning bright. Woven between dew laden brambles sparkling in the sun was the hoariest grey and white of the spider’s web telling me the promise of a lovely day. They are nature’s weather forecasters, for if she sits in the centre of her web with her eyes downcast, the day will be clear and bright.
An Oasis of Calm
In the heart of every winter is a quivering spring and with the rain now shrunk to a drizzle, the limpid grey clouds are brighter and clearer for my sake.
Our Distant and Day Long Rambles
Beneath the flailed clippings of a hawthorn hedge is the home of Fidget and her little friend Piccolo. This is the place where Bob and his trusty spaniel Blue would frequent every morning, a little lane which winds like loose string baffling your sense of direction.
A Show of Summer Softness
In a small enclave of a wooded copse is a place so delightful and yet so often goes unnoticed and unsung. Here is a place to see wonders great and small; it is the little puzzles and magical ploys it presents to us, where adventures are to be experienced and secrets discovered where no eyes can follow
in the shadowed wilds
In the shadowed wilds of mature deciduous woodland where the trees are throttled by the ivy, the wood anemones now steal the show, cloaking the ground and blooming like a galaxy of stars. The random clumps of snow piercers (snowdrops) their white beauty now faded have provided a much needed food supply for the early bees.
a winter’s tale
As I walked along through the twilight with my breath condensing into clouds in the wintery air, the ground glistening beneath my feet and the trees coated with frost, the transparent icicles of winter hanging from their boughs and softly crackling in the breeze, my thoughts once again turned to my beloved Rocky.
the bigger picture
I will try to offer you a few glimpses into the wonders of our native woodland trees, in the hope that you become better informed of the importance of our woodland treasures.
falling leaves
Whatever the season, the marvels of nature are all around us. Leaves from our woodland trees tumble and fall to the woodland floor. Consumers such as slugs and snails break down this vegetable matter into much smaller pieces.
the nature of time
I have often wondered about the nature of time, we can’t see it or touch it, yet it’s there every moment of our lives. Time is the most precious thing we are given on earth.