the hanging trees

the hanging trees

gather|

to greet the mourning sun

shrouded in mist
they rear up from the gloom

blackened and ancient
they await the return
of the black-cowled monks

thoughts in a forest

 

earthed

in a forest

of dead ferns

and mud

branches

drag

the sky

across

the moss-faced

wood

which

blankets

this ancient palace 

 

 

7 a.m. eternal

The view from the garden of our new home is stunning, even at 7:00 in the morning.

The village in which we now live is steeped in history. Named in the Domesday Book it was at one time owned by Benedictine monks. The Hall opposite was the site of a battle between the Round-heads and the Cavaliers in the English Civil War and the church next to us dates back to the eleventh century. There are several stones from the original transept in our back garden.

We're so much looking forward to exploring both the geography and history of our new environment in the months and years to come!

emerging

Spring is such a beautiful season - the first bulbs, blossom and buds emerging to defeat the cold, dark Winter. A walk in the woods becomes a magical  journey of discovery, fresh each year.

 

 

on leaving