Gone but not Forgotten

That’s the last substantial tree gone then. My newish neighbour hates trees. Thinks they are going to fall on her so told me of her plan to uproot everything along our boundary. Previously a nice secluded, if a little wild, place to relax and enjoy some privacy in our garden – now completely open to be overlooked from her back lawn (can’t call it a garden) and the street beyond.
I wonder where the little inquisitive robin will nest this year…



I met my new neighbour over the fence today – she seems very nice. She asked if I knew what kind of tree the sole one left along her boundary was, she wants to chop it down but needs to check there are no restrictions. I said that there are a lot of birds that nest there and she replied that she would probably leave it until the autumn. Her garden is ringed by stumps of the mature trees that were recently felled. When I commented that she had done a lot of work. She answered that she worried about trees falling in high winds. I think to myself that the tree is quite some distance from the house and withstood the hurricane of ’87 that blew away the pier and toppled countless trees. I wish I’d said it.
As I am mowing the grass later, I note the lack of birds that are usually hovering ready for a feast, a couple of tiny moth-like creatures skitter over the cuttings and a few grey tipped feathers lie in the springy grass.

…and breathe!

practising mindfulness
contemplating the direction
that my life should

sounds reverberate
from flat above
ripping, sawing, hammering, drilling –

incensed now;
grab long broom
bang back on ceiling –

stresses calm
“Be polite Mum!”
Walk to their door.

small moan
sorry but daughter
revising GCSEs presently…notice

Although posted separately the next elfje is an update to this so I will tag it on the end here too!
of calmness
pervade the tranquillity;
birdsong, gentle humming, clocks

Smoke Signals


February 2013

Tendrils of the palest grey pirouette upwards through the crisp evening night. The triple-potted chimney sends its message where exactly? Other communication is sent and received from this same rooftop but none of them are rooted in the ages as is this.

I wander onwards and then allow myself a smile of recognition – a bungalow two doors down puffs a response which rises and merges with the other in the ether.

Inside the brick walls humans plug themselves into technology and interaction happens without leaving the isolation of their four walls.

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