snipe

  • Nature Notes

    Before the Snow. Winter-spring holds fast at each end and see-saws. One morning, rain strikes the cold plough at 45 degrees, whilst hail big as garden peas comes down straight as a plumb line: conjoined snowflakes fly up and down through it all. A demonstration of the weight of precipitation. The ditches are overflowing and the village […]

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  • Nature Notes

    Winter’s Spring. The weather swings between seasons. Water fills ditches and rivers travel backwards; the River Lambourn’s source backs up to higher East Garston, where it is winterbourne. Another dusting of snow makes the hill blanch pale. At the snowline, a snipe goes up with a cry like tearing fabric. The wind bites, so I […]

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  • Birds of the Night Hill

    As another storm comes through, we shelter in the woods. The laurel leaves are shining with wet and the tree trunks dark with it. We are not alone.  A hare is backed up in the bay between roots of an ash. Its rump pushed against the trunk, a kohl rimmed, lunar-eclipse of a haunted eye […]

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