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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."

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This is beautiful and reminds me of an experience I had with a Jersey cow when I was little. Such deep dark beautiful eyes. If I ever win the lottery I shall have a herd of jersey cows and you can come and pet them!

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It's a deal, Wendy!! :-D

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Oh, I love the black muzzles and tongues and the way you moved away for the little girl. Beautiful.

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Thanks Jenni :-)

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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.

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What I've noticed since writing this post is how much I touch the plants I'm passing, without even realising it. It's been a good exercise in being mindful of the sensations.

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Aug 19, 2023Liked by Wendy Pratt

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.

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'the faintest whisper of gossamer/brushes my wrist' is beautiful.

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Aug 19, 2023Liked by Wendy Pratt

Thank you. It's not much but I tried to have a go at something.

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Good lines, Jenni. I can feel that nettle under a fingernail!!! Ouch.

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Aug 24, 2023Liked by Wendy Pratt

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.

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oh, the maggots in berries and the fear of eating them. Lovely writing. Really like the attention to detail in the Clark's shoes. Do you remember when the lady would come out to measure your feet in Clark's? I miss that special attention in shoe shops.

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I’m offering preliminary congrats because I feel like it’s worth celebrating even without formal formal confirmation !!

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Thank you x

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