Showing posts with label blackthorn. Show all posts
Showing posts with label blackthorn. Show all posts

Monday, 30 April 2012

April 30th

After the glory

Blossom trampled in the mud

Sloes swell and take shape

Rain Rain Rain! Was cooped up working at home. I thought of missing out on all the fun in the moors. The blackthorn blossom would have fallen, tiny sloe berries would be forming in its place.

Friday, 6 April 2012

April 6th

white wall of blossoms

blackthorns bowing and swaying

my guard of honour

 

When I go for a run or walk, I always take the same route, always run it the same way, I guess I’ve got a little bit of OCD or something :) Don’t know why I don’t reverse the route sometimes. You see a whole lot more, you are faced with the spectacle of new perspectives, stuff that will stop you in your tracks. I noticed something today which made me turn back, I was aware of a long row of blackthorns, all were white and bursting with flowers. I stopped running and turned back to look at the row and took in the view I’d never seen before, not from that angle anyway. It was beautiful. I then carried on my run.

Going to try and get a photograph of it in the next couple of days, it’s in Centenary Wood nearby, it wont be there for long.

Sunday, 1 April 2012

April 1st

The blackthorn archway

promised enchantment, a door

distant bells ring out

 

What a beautiful walk this morning. One of the blackthorn trees on the edge of the moors, bathed in the warming sun of early spring, was flowering. It must sit in a sun trap, as the other blackthorns nearby were not as magnificently decked out as this beauty. The sky was a clear blue, the morning chill was ebbing away. There were birds everywhere. Woodpeckers (Green and Great Spotted), Buzzards, Chiff-Chaffs, Treecreepers to name some of the more unusual ones.

Managed to get some (I say this humbly!) wonderful photos. Here are four, two of the blackthorn tree in question, one of a feisty wren who took exception to my presence and sat above my head singing loudly at me (I assume telling me in musical terms to “piss off”). And finally a teeny baby frog Debbie found on the moors. It is very early for a juvenile frog, when most of the new brood seem to have only just hatched into tadpoles, seething in the shallow ponds and stagnant parts of the river, not sure how it emerged so quickly as I doubt something this small crawled up onto land last spring.