today everything is watery. this morning first thing I was in the garden lighting the second burner on the kiln for my biscuit firing. the wild geese seemed to be coming in over Bale from all directions, some in long single skeins like lines of embroidery, others constantly reforming their vee formation, and chattering away. they have high and low pitched honks all together, oink oink, squeak squeak. I think some were on my friend Henry’s sugar beet and got disturbed because they came up  from the ground in a big bunch and then sorted out, but some were coming in from the coast as well. the sky was  translucent puffs of grey cloud. you could see  satin blue through them, and a jet shining in the sun high above.

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later we walked around Bale. all the young barley covered in raindrops, and puddles reflecting the sky everywhere.

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the skies seem huge now the trees are all sculptural nakedness against them.

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we went in the wood by the solitary beech tree and walked around her. winter is here and she no longer provides much shelter under her graceful limbs, but their dark beauty is exposed now.

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the winter trees remind me of a painting by John Nash. the criss-crossing branches are more lovely than anything man or woman can devise.

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down at the bottom of Cake’s the old dead oak has fallen in the strong winds of the last week.

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as I went into the meadow to get another shot we disturbed an barn owl in the grass. it turned out to be a very sad probably starving owl; it couldn’t fly and instead hopped away from us. probably one of the owls I photographed in the trees here  in february.

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I rang the Hawk and Owl Trust, but we agreed that it would probably be better to let nature take its course with this one, its so early in the winter that if it isn’t making a living now, no amount of captive forcefeeding is going to get it going as a real wild survivor. something like 90% of young owls don’t make it. however, they told me that the kestrel I rescued in March did well and was released.

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very sad, poor thing.

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walking back down Sharrington road three skeins of geese converged and appeared to hold a conversation, winging back and round until all three coalesced and began to spill the wind out from under their wings, landing in a field out of sight, nearer the main road.

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