Not capturing Wednesday


Human-Nature blog Today I didn’t make notes, didn’t take photos. We walked again.

Bought pink stilettos and holographic picture of Nature in St Michael’s Hospice in Presteigne. Also a pink chair that we plan to take out into the wilds.

The spreadsheet is in tatters and I’m quite happy about it.

She’s gone wild – gone to the dogs they’ll say.

Time is slowly slowing and as I sit happily on the plush pink chair on the pavement, waiting for Rachel to come out of the pharmacy I realize could happily sit longer.

The light through the trees in the woods on our long hilly walk was beautiful and I remember the bird-watching chair perched in a tall pine and the deer running across the clearing.

I remember that we talked about grey folk and the Huldufólk in Iceland as we walked along the river.

I remember that we made things for the first time: little films, a piece of music, a purple sofa with logs and foliage and dung exploding out of it.

I sat at Sidney’s gate and wrote fast as the sun set over Wales.

The sleeping hills settle down

Gentle black cows

I rest too

Light shifts around them

Yellow orange purple blue gold seeps into my solid body

The evening peace licks my cold toes

Aches up through me and

I am sunset-sodden forest

You are pouring in through my skin

Your last beams crack the cloud that balances on the green black pines

I am blue

There’s blue above me still and it’s still not dark and the pink blissed-out sky changes still, performs still

The sleeping giants lie silent as the day again curls herself around them – beds down to die for today


When I leave - keep mementos of me here

Close a lock of my hair that you’ve knotted – a tangle of my hair in your hand


Welsh sky burn

And fill me up

Caroline Horton