Spring Love
Nest building, courtship dance and songs of love fill the magical fenland countryside, waters deep and clear run through river and drain while the blue wide skies hold mighty waterfowl and great birds of prey.
Alive the hedgerows on this Sunday of March, no more the gales will thrash the lone eel catchers cottage, no more will willows bend on reed clad river banks, just sun filled mornings will greet us now.
Sunday, 23 March 2014
Monday, 17 March 2014
Spring Monday
Sunshine, Birdsong and Fresh Spring Breeze
Those hints of spring stand green and sounds of a fresh new summer arrive in our ears, fen folk spot those young green reed shoots that point to a summer of wide blue skies and fierce hot sun that will dry the dark soil into dust. Great water birds will gather nesting materials and the deep drains will once more hold young shoal of Roach and Perch, Heron bills again will rule the river banks and spear through clear waters has great willows kiss the mirrored current that heads to the mighty wash, alive the magical lands of the East this morning are.
Those hints of spring stand green and sounds of a fresh new summer arrive in our ears, fen folk spot those young green reed shoots that point to a summer of wide blue skies and fierce hot sun that will dry the dark soil into dust. Great water birds will gather nesting materials and the deep drains will once more hold young shoal of Roach and Perch, Heron bills again will rule the river banks and spear through clear waters has great willows kiss the mirrored current that heads to the mighty wash, alive the magical lands of the East this morning are.
Sunday, 26 January 2014
A Damp Fen Morning
Rain Filled Skies And Tired Eyes
A grey morning welcomes us on this day of worship, cries from the tall manor tree rookery ring out like those calling bells that fill church towers all over this garden of the east, while men of the land and ladies in fine silk drop coin from gloved hands in stone temples this bead maker once more enjoys a day at his flame.
No ice does lay over the dark soil just the green young wild rape seed that self set in autumn mildness, rich green they stand with game birds walking their shallow paths and broken wet stubble rotting beneath their young leaves.
Where is that winter we fear, the snows and freezing winds of the north that wrap these flat lands in white soft coat and form ice on dyke and river through every black night, all that shows this fresh year is the rains from the west, great storms that bully our coast and burst our rivers banks and still cold damp mornings such as this, we wait and watch those great open skies that rush over us, we wait.
A grey morning welcomes us on this day of worship, cries from the tall manor tree rookery ring out like those calling bells that fill church towers all over this garden of the east, while men of the land and ladies in fine silk drop coin from gloved hands in stone temples this bead maker once more enjoys a day at his flame.
No ice does lay over the dark soil just the green young wild rape seed that self set in autumn mildness, rich green they stand with game birds walking their shallow paths and broken wet stubble rotting beneath their young leaves.
Where is that winter we fear, the snows and freezing winds of the north that wrap these flat lands in white soft coat and form ice on dyke and river through every black night, all that shows this fresh year is the rains from the west, great storms that bully our coast and burst our rivers banks and still cold damp mornings such as this, we wait and watch those great open skies that rush over us, we wait.
Saturday, 4 January 2014
Rain, Winds And Dark Mornings.
How Wet This New Year Of Ours
While single streams of white smoke lift from the terracotta chimney pots that rest on those low roofed fen cottages where dirt floors had flooded in years past and fen lend has since played with their upright appearance, the rains once more soak the rich garden of the east. Those huge wide skies form deep dark cloaks that sail high above the hard people of the fens while they work the reed beds and farmland, to these folk of the marsh this is just another part of life in their magical world.
For this bead hermit it's a day of cleaning beads, while the wild winds blow away the remains of the old year, natures fresh start and one I hope will be good for all of us.
While single streams of white smoke lift from the terracotta chimney pots that rest on those low roofed fen cottages where dirt floors had flooded in years past and fen lend has since played with their upright appearance, the rains once more soak the rich garden of the east. Those huge wide skies form deep dark cloaks that sail high above the hard people of the fens while they work the reed beds and farmland, to these folk of the marsh this is just another part of life in their magical world.
For this bead hermit it's a day of cleaning beads, while the wild winds blow away the remains of the old year, natures fresh start and one I hope will be good for all of us.
Wednesday, 1 January 2014
New Year Dawns
The Fresh Year Is Upon Us
With fen winds blowing cold fresh air over the flat world of marsh and drain and the damp rain sodden dark rich soil sticking to the feet of fen tigers, we welcome the new year once more. A new year in which the seasons will again test us and make us smile and cry, a year in which we will turn many corners and favour those days when our spirits are high.
Once more we will watch those great hunting birds in the wide skies and see fish hover over shingle filled river beds while great Willows bend and kiss the water. Eel traps will sit nestled in reed and sedge while winter plays his harsh game and spring will once more put smiles on weather beaten faces as she always does.
So much to come while this bead maker plays with his flame and learns more molten magic tricks, another year in which he will watch and learn from natures lesson's, yet again he will live the simple life he enjoys and new faces he will meet, we welcome you 2014.
With fen winds blowing cold fresh air over the flat world of marsh and drain and the damp rain sodden dark rich soil sticking to the feet of fen tigers, we welcome the new year once more. A new year in which the seasons will again test us and make us smile and cry, a year in which we will turn many corners and favour those days when our spirits are high.
Once more we will watch those great hunting birds in the wide skies and see fish hover over shingle filled river beds while great Willows bend and kiss the water. Eel traps will sit nestled in reed and sedge while winter plays his harsh game and spring will once more put smiles on weather beaten faces as she always does.
So much to come while this bead maker plays with his flame and learns more molten magic tricks, another year in which he will watch and learn from natures lesson's, yet again he will live the simple life he enjoys and new faces he will meet, we welcome you 2014.
Thursday, 26 December 2013
A Very Merry Christmas
Christmas Wishes
First of all I must apologize for the lack of blog posts this last month or so, but as some of you know my mother-in-law was really not well and we were busy helping to look after her and popping back and forth to the hospital. Sadly she lost her battle with illness and passed away, so as you can imagine it has been a very busy and sad time here leading up towards Christmas.
I promise that I will be updating the blog again on a regular basis now as we are trying to get back to normal as best we can.
So I just wanted to wish each and every one of you the most wonderful Christmas and I hope 2014 is a better year for all of us, I think most of us have found this year rather hard at times but I'm sure the coming new year will be a far better one.
Merry Christmas To You All !
First of all I must apologize for the lack of blog posts this last month or so, but as some of you know my mother-in-law was really not well and we were busy helping to look after her and popping back and forth to the hospital. Sadly she lost her battle with illness and passed away, so as you can imagine it has been a very busy and sad time here leading up towards Christmas.
I promise that I will be updating the blog again on a regular basis now as we are trying to get back to normal as best we can.
So I just wanted to wish each and every one of you the most wonderful Christmas and I hope 2014 is a better year for all of us, I think most of us have found this year rather hard at times but I'm sure the coming new year will be a far better one.
Merry Christmas To You All !
Monday, 28 October 2013
The Storm Arrives
Winds Hammer The Fens
After a night of rain and fen breeze most fen tigers were sitting awaiting the promised storm, not fooled by the early weather they knew better than us, reading the skies like great pages they saw the still would soon rage.
This bead maker now sits watching the winds and rain tear the reed beds and sedge from shallow dyke while lifting loose countryside litter high into the air, those deep hand dug drains are filling and not a bird flies the black skies over the east. How right those wise old eel men and peat cutters were, beside their warm stoves they sit, another day owned by the weather they watch, no stinging rain will strike their weather torn faces this day, no punt will wander the rivers and deep waters this October morning nor thatchers reed will they cut.
Now I see how wild this mythical world can be and why talk of webbed feet still ride those whispered tales told in inglenooks on dark winter nights.
After a night of rain and fen breeze most fen tigers were sitting awaiting the promised storm, not fooled by the early weather they knew better than us, reading the skies like great pages they saw the still would soon rage.
This bead maker now sits watching the winds and rain tear the reed beds and sedge from shallow dyke while lifting loose countryside litter high into the air, those deep hand dug drains are filling and not a bird flies the black skies over the east. How right those wise old eel men and peat cutters were, beside their warm stoves they sit, another day owned by the weather they watch, no stinging rain will strike their weather torn faces this day, no punt will wander the rivers and deep waters this October morning nor thatchers reed will they cut.
Now I see how wild this mythical world can be and why talk of webbed feet still ride those whispered tales told in inglenooks on dark winter nights.
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