November 21st

 

rose glow of comfort

caress the saturated

peat drunk on rainfall

October 13th

 

When the moor succumbs

to bitter progress, they’ll dig

and find the bog man

 

I’ve not been entirely happy with my Haikus of late. I went for a run and lo and behold, some inspiration. Running is thinking time. I wrote a poem about the mind cleansing solitude, the creativity to be garnered from a run, away from all that distracting technology which clogs our lives, how it touches something ancient, something physical, brings us closer to the animals were are.

Today I considered what it would be like if I were lost on the moor, sunk into the peat, only to be discovered hundreds of years into the future preserved like one of those bog men. What could they deduce about me? Would they work out I was more than just a stupid jogger who broke his ankle and sunk into the mire? Probably not and to be honest they wouldn’t need to, as they’d be right!

There is an 8-haiku (5-7-5) version of this work on my main blog as it is more of a narrative poem. The abridged version single Haiku version is here.

February 24th

 

Old twisted peat cart,

I followed your buried tracks,

As you sink and rust.

 

In the moors there is an old discarded peat cart, when I first lived in the area it actually looked like a peat cart, but over the years it has slowly deteriorated and sunk into the peat it used to carry to the edge of the moor, where it would be unloaded. I wanted to capture a sense of melancholy about it, everything returns to the earth at some point.

I don’t know how old the cart is, but peat extraction was still an industry in the area until the 1960s. The location of the peat cart is in one of the wettest areas of Flitwick moor. It’s quite hard to see in this photo, but I wanted show how wet the area is. There are a lot of silver birches in the moors as well, as can be seen by the tree on the left.

A closer view of the peat cart.

And finally a photo of this part of the moor, with another silver birch, it is exceptionally peaty and wet here in winter, so when I’m running, I have to walk through, making sure to not roll my ankle or lose half my leg in a mucky peat puddle! Anyway, it was a beautiful day today, the woods and moors were full of bird song. Their battle to establish territory has begun.