No Red kite today but a sky lark in full swing. Competing with the roar of the A1 morning traffic.
It’s a noisy field, in fact it is a field that separates almost everything. Factories, train-line, motorway, allotments, orchard, housing development, school and rubbish tip.
For some reason, behind the rubbish tip is were I ended up today. Picking up a subtle but definite path into the bushy undergrowth, I crunched my way in away form the designated path, trying not to get my tights snagged on rogue brambles as I went.
A path that leads to nowhere but the corner of the field, it’s borders, marked out on both sides by the metal palisade fencing. On the south side the train-line, on the east side the rubbish dump.
A patch of what? Trees, branches bare against the blue sky, scattered with the odd old birds nest. Underfoot is uneven and slightly spongey like there might be layers of something underneath this greenish mossy covering. I can’t think what it could be. Over by the train-line I spend some time scanning the various bits of rubbish. Little bottles, miniature bottles, like the single shot type. Loads of them, generally strewn about the place and the occasional larger type. Spiritual feeling of a different sort today. I wait a while, generally soaking up the atmosphere. Take an empty bottle in my pocket for a memento and head on up the hill. Watch the skylark directly over my head, through my binoculars and then photograph a bottle cork pinned on to a bit of barbed wire.
Thank you for your offerings today field.
