A few very wet days recently, so wet a newt tries to come indoors
and the lambs huddle for shelter against our boundary looking yearningly through the window at the dryness within:
and then within a few days they are bearing a new mark
which will identify them as they leave the field pasture and move on to the hills.
The next day their field is transformed
Life moves on for the chickens as a new generation arrive
and those that were called chicks are now pullets testing out their life skills.
and looking slightly disdainful
They watch as compost is mixed
and their lovely light house, made of glass, is invaded
Meanwhile the old crew have melded
Almost forgetting the departed Dahlia, moved on to crow forage.
The swallows, having moved into the wood shed, are canoodling on the overhead wire
and the two hedgehogs try to outdo each other in their nightly deposits
and the flycatcher defends his spot
I would like to end with some words written today by another family member in a rural setting six thousand miles from Gribin Isaf:
“I pick myself up and start my descent down the hill. The children are playing football on the road, and the people are coming in from the fields. The light is fading fast now. Where do we go from here? We are creatures of hope. Our politics is defined by it, as their’s is defined by fear. Today is our darkest day, but from here we begin again. We continue our walk to that open space, where the light is strong.”
You can read all of the piece by going here.