In 1906 Edith Holden started a Diary, now known as ‘The Country Diary Of An Edwardian Lady’. In it, she observed Natures cycle through the months of the year, writing simply about the weather, the birds, the flowers and the natural world around her. All the pages are beautifully ornamented with her original artwork and favourite poems. In this Blog, I’m going to try to emulate her Diary in a modern way. For a start, this is a blog on a computer, not pen and ink lovingly written on paper! However, I hope that the end result will have some similarities, in that I want to capture day by day, month by month the steady rhythm of Nature through the year. For although our 21st century lives are hectic, chaotic, noisy and deafened by electronics, the beat of the natural world, which is the backdrop to all our lives whether we notice it or not, remains ever the same. So take a sedate, gentle and steady-paced journey with me through the next year, observing the natural world. Our way of life may have changed almost beyond recognition since 1906, but nature is doing what it always has done, the cycle of nature remains constant and reassuringly predictable. In that respect, nothing has changed. ‘ No Winter lasts forever; no Spring skips its turn.’ (Hal Borland)

Monday, 6 May 2013

may 6th.

Went up to the Brecon Beacons, though strictly speaking, stayed in the Usk valley, as I walked up in the high moors east of Llandovery to the source of the Usk river. A beautiful day up on the moorland, with many red kites overhead, and the grasses full of pipits, whinchats and skylarks. The Usk here is a babbling, meandering mountain stream which after a couple of miles across the moor ends in a spring , bubbling out of the sandstone in the side of the mountain. The lack of noise pollution was lovely, no distant hum of traffic which is the curse of the modern countryside in many places, especially in
south east Wales because of the many major roads through it, no dogs barking! Just the sound of the wind ,the running water and a sky brimmed full of lark song ; peaceful bliss! 

Several pairs of wheatears too, back for the summer to nest in the many rocky places along the river.

 ( lines from) The River-Thomas Aird.
Infant of the weeping hills,
Nursling of the springs and rills,
Growing River, flowing ever, 
Wimpling,dimpling, staying never,-
Lisping, gurgling, ever going,
Lipping, slipping, ever flowing,
Toying round the polished stone, 
Kiss the sedge and journey on.
Here's a creek where bubbles come,
Whirling make your ball of foam.
There's a nook so deep and cool,
Sleep into a glassy pool.
Breaking, gushing,
Downward rushing,
Narrowing green against the bank,
Where the alders grow in rank,-
Thence recoiling, 
Outward boiling,
Fret, in rough shingly shallows wide, 
Your difficult way to yonder side.
Thence away, aye away,
Bickering down the sunny day,
In the sea in yonder West,
Lose yourself and be at rest......

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