A walk up the Hill to the University and back by another way showed many a brown lawn. We can feel a little smug because our bath water goes out of the back door and onto the ground. Our grass is still mostly green but some plants have been afflicted with powdery mildew due to the drought.
Walking down off the hill, we plunged into a wooded area above the little river Kinver. As the sun descended westward, he lit up the heads of this clump of sedges in a clearing just above the river. Light and dark: a moment of glory for these flowers of the field.
This time I am not ranting about light pollution; I’m rejoicing that on my way down Abbot’s Hill I was followed, very closely, by my moon shadow. It was light enough with but a 3/4 moon, to see my path across the grass: my moon shadow followed me as far as the LED streetlights at the edge of town. So good to see him again!
I probably should not take my mobile phone to church on a Sunday, though 90% of the time I remember to silence it – and then forget to turn the rings on again afterwards, so receive no messages.
However, the gadget serves to record, once in a while, the glories of what I might otherwise miss. This third-rate photo just gives the impression of scarlet pimpernel and purple grass heads taking over some bare soil at the top of the hill. Almost an abstract.
Lovely enough to say, ‘Good Morning Life, and all things glad and beautiful.’ (WH Davies).
Next day, somewhat dispiritedly riding home in the rain, I spotted maybe a hundred starlings, adults and juveniles, enjoying the downpour because it was bringing worms and leatherjackets to the surface of the park. Would I have noticed them if they’d been quiet? Maybe not, but they are incapable of staying quiet! ‘Good Morning Life, and all things glad and beautiful.’