I am early to the Glen today my intention to walk the legs begins with moving fast and soon slows as the valley weaves its magic around me. I greet the Dipper in her usual spot by the Fleischmann residence, moving on without stopping so as not to disturb her hunting – but she flies under the bridge on the continuum as I pass over.
i see the ferns are showing their croziers
I stop by the Alder pool listening to the sounds of the water rushing by, moving in swirls by the tree and gurgling at the fast bank
The motion has made some froth that gathers in the gully of the Alder making mountains by the sticks, old styro-foam, and a miniature bottle keeping its message tight.
I go on up to the high ground picking up pace once again
and find the dew in a dandelion clock that someone has already kissed, blown a hole into the very heart of it
I loop the loop twice on the high ground moving too fast to linger for pictures and feeling as always indecisive about which path to take. I am, as always drawn to the Hatch – the Alders there, and the rush of the water …..now overshadowed by the burning under the flats, the earth and the rubbish looking more precarious now, and threatening to fall, somehow the big old stone seems to have predicted this moment.
I turn to go home when I notice the line of daffodils on the Rope walk, now almost all have given up their flowers, one way or another…. I have a plan to make some cordage from the dead flower stems, and so I go a gathering,…. eventually i walk home with a nice bundle…. it will take a few weeks to dry and be ready to twine.