April in the Dorset countryside

Ribbons of mist lie along the valleys this morning and the sky above is a brilliant blue.

In the wood, the bluebells are popping up their heads to say hello. There is a large fir tree across the path, its bowl of roots looking rather ungainly and uncomfortable. It’s as if the tree has fallen over with its dress up over its head. There is a large, watery crater below.

We can’t climb over the trunk  so we make a detour near the badger setts. The dog bounces on and then we’re out in the field and out of the shadows to take in the view. I drink it in. It is youth dew, this nature, this elixir of life.

In the fields beyond, tractors trundling with machinery behind them create a constant soundtrack. A raven caws as sheep bleat in the next-door field so I put the dog on the lead to avoid temptation.

This slideshow requires JavaScript.

 

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s