Sunday Afternoon Stroll

Lichen-covered wood rough beneath my arms

Dandelion clocks floating by on a warm, gusty breeze

The scent of hot summer grass, strong

A heron wheels above me, huge and prehistoric, while lower down the slope five dainty Cabbage Whites dance in harmony

Behind me, the sound of trickling water

From two fields distant, the bleating of a noisy lamb

Down in the valley bottom, the sticky air is motionless

A pheasant leads her brood of babies away from me

Past the home of Ronnie the Rocking Horse Maker where a branch of crinkled brown leaves overhangs the wall

And now up the steep slope at the other side, sampling blackberries as I go

Suddenly a stampede of raucous sheep across the hillside