I can’t dig with my
pen as Seamus does with his.
I’ll dig potatoes.
by Scooj
Inspired by Seamus Heaney’s beautiful poem ‘Digging’ which I read as a child. I love the metaphor. I love the poem.
Tag: Nature
Summer Berries
Blackberry Sunday;
while I dig the potatoes,
they have all the fun.
by Scooj
Disappointing or Pleasing Bench?
Haven for worn legs,
withdrawn and blending into
an urban jungle.
by Scooj
Ragwort
Van Goughian splash
gathering red, green and gold;
soldier beetle flies.
by Scooj
End of life
Once green, now yellow,
wheat heads groan in windy gusts
longing for harvest.
by Scooj
Almost invisible
Standing out alone
in understated grandeur.
Most will walk on by.
by Scooj
Dragonfly
Relic from Earth’s youth
bathing in afternoon sun.
Fleeting adulthood.
by Scooj
Bristol to London by Train 2
Deer in open fields
scamper away for cover
when iron thunder comes.
by Scooj
Helios
Floret furnaces
laid out in regular rows
bursting with pollen.
by Scooj
Allotment time
Here my breathing slows
until no air passes through;
place and mind are one.
by Scooj
I sat in this overgrown corner of my allotment doing a butterfly survey this afternoon. My heart rate slowed and I caught myself not even breathing. So calm and peaceful.
Natural adventures 