A raven is high in the sky, croaking. It has been around for a while now. I rather like the sound of them though I know traditionally ravens are thought of as symbols of death but there is something intriguing about them.They suit the mountains and hills.
The sheep on the other hand are quiet today. Clustered beneath a tree they turn their heads towards me as though they’ve been caught considering something private and if I was a sheep I would be plotting escape too – away from abattoirs.
There is hardly any wind. It is heavy as though the sky is pressing down on the earth. It is almost difficult to breathe it is so airless. In this sort of weather I actually want rain – to clear it.
Small yellow flowers have collected around the top field entrance. It’s difficult, after checking my books and other sources to be completely sure. They are either cat’s ear or hawkbit. Further down the lane the delicate flowers of the nipplewort are growing close to the holly and hazel while enchanter’s nightshade has appeared on the stream bank. Delicate Herb robert flowers continue to brighten the otherwise dark hedgerows. Pink and yellow continue to be the predominate colours on the lane.
Hazel nuts are still falling in their twos and threes along the path and who knows how many have fallen into the stream. While not quite deep enough for salmon to live in perhaps there is a smaller creature eating the hazelnuts and there will be a different version of the salmon of knowledge! Hazel nut casings are decorating the moss like curly yellow stars and spindle tree berries are now beginning to show in their pink casings.