Aug 20, 2023·edited Aug 20, 2023Liked by Wendy Pratt
Here's something I wrote for the journal prompt. At some point, I may try to turn it into a poem :-) -- "A couple of days ago, I chanced upon a petting zoo - a covered wagon hauled by a John Deere tractor and parked in the open field of the park, facing the harbour, close to the Dairy Bar. It was raining lightly. If it hadn't been for the repeated crows of what I was sure was a rooster, I may not have gone closer and satisfied my curiosity. I never did see the rooster but there was certainly a menagerie of farm animals. What lured me closer were two young Jersey calves, looking like deer with smooth, soft short-haired, brown coats. It had been many years since I had touched a black rubbery muzzle. And I knew there'd be a rough black wet tongue too. As soon as I reached out my hand they both suckled my fingers vigorously, just in case I would be the source of their next meal. A 12 year old girl came over with her dad. She started to move around the wagon to see what animals were within reach. I drew back to give her lots of room, thanked the retired farmer who owned the animals and went on my way. I wish now I'd stayed longer, even if it was raining."
Love this invitation to explore the seasons with the senses, especially also touch. When we live in cities we don’t “touch” the seasons as much as when we live in the countryside where we may harvest vegetables etc.
Here's something I wrote for the journal prompt. At some point, I may try to turn it into a poem :-) -- "A couple of days ago, I chanced upon a petting zoo - a covered wagon hauled by a John Deere tractor and parked in the open field of the park, facing the harbour, close to the Dairy Bar. It was raining lightly. If it hadn't been for the repeated crows of what I was sure was a rooster, I may not have gone closer and satisfied my curiosity. I never did see the rooster but there was certainly a menagerie of farm animals. What lured me closer were two young Jersey calves, looking like deer with smooth, soft short-haired, brown coats. It had been many years since I had touched a black rubbery muzzle. And I knew there'd be a rough black wet tongue too. As soon as I reached out my hand they both suckled my fingers vigorously, just in case I would be the source of their next meal. A 12 year old girl came over with her dad. She started to move around the wagon to see what animals were within reach. I drew back to give her lots of room, thanked the retired farmer who owned the animals and went on my way. I wish now I'd stayed longer, even if it was raining."
Love this invitation to explore the seasons with the senses, especially also touch. When we live in cities we don’t “touch” the seasons as much as when we live in the countryside where we may harvest vegetables etc.
A few lines mostly about touch:
Ripe ears of wheat
tickle my bare legs
as I skirt the edge of a field
alongside a sluggish river
aglow with kingcups.
Thorns prickle my palm,
a stinging nettle
sneaks beneath a fingernail,
the faintest whisper of gossamer
brushes my wrist,
a richness of blackberries glistens in my basket.
Mawdseley
Picking brambles as a child is supposed to be fun
Scrambling fingers reaching for thick bruises ripe for a pie
Straddling a ditch in Clark's shoes straight from school
Four or five empty Christmas biscuit tins to be filled
Before we're allowed home for tea.
Mum liked Swallows and Amazons, Just Williams
making do and mend.
I liked bramble pie and custard - of course I did
I just hated picking them
the stain on my fingers
the softness of maggots.
I agree with Carmen, I live in the suburbs and it's been stimulating to look around at August and see the evidence of the changing season.
I’m offering preliminary congrats because I feel like it’s worth celebrating even without formal formal confirmation !!