Bude and Clovelly

A three day, two night excursion to Bude produced a few images. If we'd have been able to examine Clovelly Dykes there would have been more words. Suffice to say it was hot. Understandable given the unusually warm and humid Indian Summer we're experiencing. Only on the last day did the wind manage to get past a ripple and a few mackerel clouds managed to dissipate the heat somewhat.

Tour of Britain

As it did last year, the Tour of Britain visited Dartmoor. And I visited the Tour.

But before we met up ...

This is Dartmoor after all. And hence to ...

Just setting the scene. Here's the lead group.

And the peleton - the bunch if you like.

Finally the support.

Whoosh! And they were gone.

In Between

Her heart lies amongst the greenery,

pulsing through the filaments.

Shoots pushing up through rotting mulch

sap bursting in a lithe climb to the light.

Life through death.

A partial demise

hence to a renewal.

And in between,

during the icy clutches of Winter,
a dormant phase.

Yet she remains,

even in those mortal depths,
poised for rebirth.

Glimpsed in the seasonal berries,

crimson red,
filled with her life-blood.

Or on the Robin's breast,
while he sings of her coming.

Shifting Foliage

Sunlight splinters through shifting foliage,

casting dappled shade on the forest floor.

Each parcel of light has an origin,

though only the savant might trace its path.

Across this shimmering carpet she walks,

leaving image echoes in her wake.

The hare, wily shy, sits up in the grass,

ears aloft
listening to her laughter.

The crane, stands steady,

eye beaded,
missing not a step she takes.

The dog fox, traitor to the thicket,
lifts his head,
catching her scent, sweet and fresh.

Wild flowers, weak and fragile, stretch higher,

risking all,
for a glimpse. Just a glimpse.

Resolutely she walks on,

dainty feet tracing the path of life.
Forward. Forever forward.