Spring has been a myth…

Recent floods and freak, storm weather has made us all the more aware of the changing climate. With all but a few scattered days of sunshine, spring has been a myth… although that said and despite zero degrees, nature is taking care of business; she operates by the length of daylight rather than the staged calendar cycles imposed on humanity.

Wild hedgerows are full of nesting birds… crabapple blossom has been and gone but will possibly be scant in fruit as it was too cold for the bees to be out.

Elderflower are just budding now… late for this area but the harvest will eventually be huge, now a few sunny days have arrived.

Finally… apple, pear, cherry and plum are in blossom and wild herbs are making an appearance again. Daffodil, narcissus and now bluebells and harebells are everywhere and the bees are finally out and about.

Wild ducks are chaparoning their wee flocks to ponds and dams, wandering along the trenches we dug to allow the flow of water away from our barn-house… a lone swamp hen trundles along behind… he’s elderly and not eligible for another mate the young, constantly chase him off now.

We were honoured by the visit of a pair of native black ducks… usually only the male drops in, once or twice a year but htis year he has brought his mate.

Life beyond the gate has been misted in and mystical… like an overlay of another time and space… sounds muted… nothing but the drip, drip of water from trees and the haunting call of a brush cuckoo.

It is heard in the sigh
of whispering trees
…in the notes of the calling
sent on a breeze
Deep within you can hear
A magickal song
Deep within, through the doorway
where there’s no right nor wrong
If you’re quiet …truly listen
hear the notes swell and dip
through the rush of the ocean
or the rain as it drips
from each branch that bends
with the weight of rain
or in the soft scent of evening
that dulls sharpened pain
Along the Crooked Pathway
turning left and then right
you’ll hear soft singing
to the moonrise at night
Deeper still and you’ll hear music
at the gateway in the West
from the land of all dreaming
where you complete your life’s quest
and then onward, listen
…you’ll find your own thread
in a single note that sparkles 
removing the dread
for nothing is dying
only reaching its peak
In the depths… in Her darkness
…are the symphonies you seek

Activities begin to pick up in both farm life and in the studio… my ninth book, Poetry for Wild Spirits, was published last month and has been selling well and so will become the accompanying volume to Wild Spirits the work in progress currently… snippets of this will be posted here in my blog soon.

Alongside the farm/garden work and writing are commissioned art works that came out of the blue to stimulate my creativity, no end… three small watercolour pieces and my biggest work yet… a mixed media of huge dimension, that I honestly am quite nervous about starting, so I’ll sit awhile with the blank canvas and the theme requested and then we’ll see what is visualised and hopefully, manifested.

All is a work in progress… nature, art, writing, photography, publishing… all keep me busy and prosperous on one level or another… all is in balance at Beyond the Gtae Farm and Studio…

Blessings… Penny

Poetry for Wild Spirits and Penny’s 8 other books are available, directly through her and on Amazon for the Epub/kindle edition. Wholesale enquiries can be made to Ingram Publishing.

All text, poetry and art/photography is copyright the author, Penny Reilly.

All rights reserved.

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