Cutting the orchard meadow before full sun

Posted on by celfypridd

I always set the mowers blades high and they stay that way through the year. The orchards sward stays green and lush through the height of the summer even on the driest of years. Grass cuttings are used to mulch soft fruit bushes and the standard apple and cherry trees. This year is going to be a challenge as the rainfall has been low through the winter and the spring. Leaving the grass long slows evaporation and holds the dew in the mornings. In contrast my neighbour’s mow short and their ground is yellowing and I’ve no doubt I’ll hear the sprinklers soon. This year reminds me strongly of the spring of 1976!

I’m not tidy. I don’t cut at the edges of the field leaving long grass as hiding places for newly fledge birds. I leave daffodils and primroses stand and only cut when the flower pods are dry and rattling with seed. I collect the seeds before I cut and spread them where I think a splash of colour will look good in spring.

Measuring the weight of clouds

Posted on by celfypridd

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He stands watching steam rise

From the boiling water of the open pan

 

He clasped his hands together

To catch a cloud of steam somehow

 

And it is moments like these

Men in their madness dream

Of measuring the weight of clouds

 

He stood his mouth wide and open

And tried to catch a cloud of steam

 

And it is at moments like this

That large bellied men scheme

To measure the weight of clouds.

 

A black blind eagle sat in a tree

Listening very carefully to the man

Standing above the boiling pan

 

This wise bird could clearly hear

Each movement the man made

To grasp and gather a cloud of steam

 

And it is at times like these

That earth becomes more dangerous.

 

The child lies on his back in the grass

On the mountains top

Watching clouds stream past

The effortless changing forms

And sees too the time ahead

When ice a mile thick

Will cover the land again

 

Men stand watching steam rise

From the boiling water of the open pan

And see nothing, hear nothing

Not even the sound of time

Breathing hot breathed

At the back of their necks

 

And it is at times like these

That earth becomes more dangerous.