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"a man is a success if he gets up in the morning ,goes to bed at night and in between does what he wants to do" Bob Dylan.

Thursday 13 January 2011

landscape '11/work in progress

Donning warm coats and a copy of "exile on main street" we drove out to Friden to walk on the old railway line to Parsley Hay. Its a blustery day clouds scud by chasing each other heading east , the sun waking  from hibernation , appears momentarily from behind low cloud before retreating into hiding again. Such a thrill- a Buzzard ruffled up by the wind rests on a fence post near to us before a pair of Rooks looking for trouble cause him to slope of on the wind and catch a thermal and spiral way off into the distance. A hundred or so Fieldfares ravage a Hawthorne of the last few berries while a posse of Goldfinches have some kind of noisy meet up in an Elder Tree.




The land is silent. With the trees leafless the fields hills and moorland appears different. The dry stone walls divide the landscape in a way that is not so obvious in other seasons as if a giant hand has scratched and scraped the land. Interesting lines, forms and shapes. As we approach Parsley Hay ,with Gib Hill Burial Mound and Arbor Low Stone Circle just over the hill I am thinking about the unseen lines of power that also cross the earth. At this time though we wander a silent land whose song can just be heard on the wind if you incline the soul to hear.



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