“What can you scent on the wind, old hound?”

(An early extract from my forthcoming poetry collection.) "What Can You Scent On The Wind, Old Hound?" What can you scent on the wind, old hound, As you stand with your nose to the gale? What pheromones float on the breeze, all around? And if you could talk, of what tale? The coney's are out … Continue reading “What can you scent on the wind, old hound?”

Taverham Mill Nature Reserve- A Hidden Norfolk Gem

You know, sometimes we go off thrill seeking or looking for that ‘different’ view that takes our breath away. I’ve never been one for pyramids, temples, skyscrapers or other artificial vistas. Half the reason I moved to Norfolk fifteen years ago was due to it raw beauty, coastline, inland waters and big skies. Meeting my … Continue reading Taverham Mill Nature Reserve- A Hidden Norfolk Gem

The Ravens Of Carn Fadryn

The opportunity to spend a few days in North Wales was too much to resist, even for this hermit. We booked a cracking cottage (Ty Bwclyn) near Dinas on the Llyn Peninsula, set below a 370m hill called Carn Fadryn. Compared to nearby Snowdonia, the granite-tipped crag was insignificant yet was set to capture my … Continue reading The Ravens Of Carn Fadryn

Summer Breeze

The scent of jasmine carried by the breeze on a hot June night overwhelms the fading aroma of garlic bread and barbecued meat. The midges dance in anger outside an invisible curtain of citronella smoke released from a circle of burning tea-lights. Pipistrelle bats prey on insects hovering around the solar lamps in the hanging … Continue reading Summer Breeze

A Sigh To The Wild

This weekends creaking, bending trees and the exhalation of Mother Natures vast lungs have sealed the turn of the new year for me. Coming off the back of ten days of walking the woods and fields of the Norfolk hinterlands, returning to work in an office is going to be hell on Monday. Yet perhaps it's that purgatory that makes … Continue reading A Sigh To The Wild

The Wakening Wood

The dull thud of the closing tailgate, having released an eager hound, was enough to prompt an exodus of clattering grey feather from the ivy-strangled pines that lined the woodland ride. Tall, dark Ents that stand vigil around the Old Hall and stare down at me with critical eyes, yet tolerance. Calling the dog to heel, … Continue reading The Wakening Wood