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Category / The Clearing / Poetry / The Clearing
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Happy the Man by Gareth Evans
Happy the man who hears no birds above the clamour of his false words
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Birds of Firle by Tanya Shadrick
Twenty-one rooks printed and stuck into that fifty-pence notebook. To be offered in turn to anyone, anywhere, who would write back with their thoughts.
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Sand by Ann Lingard
So, for many organisms, the answer is to live within the sand, or to move freely on top of it when the tide is in, or to engineer it to make a home.
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Placing the Mark, Marking the Place by B. G. Nichols
Over time, I began to transfer my little votives from one place to another, creating invisible filaments, lines of organic energy that connected me to a place.
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A Rewilding Diary by Emily Warner
My work in Glen Affric has also been a tale of collaboration: friends, field-assistants and family giving themselves wholly to my fieldwork for chunks of time.
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Walking boots and binoculars by George Hassall
These moors are Britain’s wet deserts, drowned by rain pretty much every day and howled by the winds.
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Seasonal Disorder by Martin Maudsley
But letting go is not the same as losing something. Without the wind in my sails I was helplessly, horribly becalmed. Like the songbirds in summer, I’d lost my voice, and the world around me changed its tune.
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The Emboughered by Dickie Straker
Last night, I rambled through memory paths, leaf litter, the sounds of dawn and dusk and the spicy aroma of autumn, of carp slime, beech mast and silt.
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To Spot an Otter by Elspeth Wilson
It asks what it means if the nature cure doesn’t apply to you? Does that mean you can’t be cured?
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TREE: Living Near Woods by Gill Horitz
When words were no longer on the tip of my mother’s tongue one of the first to go was ‘tree’.
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TREE: Sometimes a Moon by Jane Routh
The summer view of the hills is filtered through its green leaflets, just beginning to yellow as I write this at the beginning of October.
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TREE: Life Cycle by Ruth Bradshaw
The amorphous, anonymous mass of tangled greenery that I have too often ignored on previous visits to the woods begins to take on a new significance.
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