Feeding off new flesh

June 23, 2017

21st June

Five buzzards circling overhead. I’ve never seen so many of them in one go. One of them peels away and flies low over the garden into the tall stand of trees to our left. They are hunting, probably for chicks or fledglings. Their slow circling takes them ever nearer the trees surrounding the churchyard where the rooks nest –

Soon the rooks will rise in a black flapping cloud to drive the buzzards away. There will be a feathered Battle of Britain in the clear blue dome of the sky. One or two buzzards they can usually cope with, but five – ?


Certain thoughts come at very precise times. They have their own agenda. Night encourages them, gives each of them their own moment. And the more there is silence, then the more they will make noise –


It is not difficult to cross the road. But it depends who’s waiting on the other side, doesn’t it?


The mornings lately are misty making everything on the moor look ghostly and strange. Step into that mist and you take a step back in time –

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