June 30
Wild June ended much as it had begun: sitting with Eddie under the vastness of the Norfolk sky. It was evening, the violet hour.
It was quieter now than it was 30 days back. The cuckoos have departed. The warblers raise their voices only occasionally. A song thrush was singing well but without urgency. The year had gone to seed.
How strange that we use this expression to mean a falling away from perfection, the beginning of decay, the onset of death. Why does a plant live and photosynthesise and transpire and flower, if not to produce seeds?
Seeds are the plant’s quest for immortality: its bid to become an ancestor by making more plants. The year was going to seed in the same way, some of the plants already doing so quite literally. We were moving from promise in the direction of achievement
Singing is only ever just the start. We were now into the middle section: the raising and fledging of young. Going over, the gardener’s say: but going over is whole point.
The solstice has passed, Wild June was ending but the end brought consolation, for Wild July was following hard upon it.
I have blogged every wild day of Wild June: so there’s a first. Lockdown had made for a great concentration on what’s right in front of us.
Every year at this time I resolve to blog more often: every wild day is a good day, no matter what month it falls in. Meanwhile, many thanks to all who have read and responded to what Eddie and I have put up in the last 30 days.
A swift shot across the sky. Who wrote that it was as if an archer had fired the bow instead of the arrow? Eddie and I went back to the house. We would do more wild things tomorrow. Maybe even write about them.
Please don’t stop, I know you know the world can’t just be about June xx
Thoroughly enjoyed your blogs through June. There is always a tinge of sadness when your wild month is over but there is more to come! How many more people, having read your interpretations of the natural world are now out there looking through your eyes? Thank you.
Just to echo the above comments. I so appreciate your blogs. We live just outside of Bristol with woodland, farmland and meadows. Every day is a delight. Your attention to detail heightens my awareness of what is special right down to the tiniest insect. Thank you.
Thank you Simon and Eddie
I was so thrilled to see your blogs pop up again. I’ve savoured each one, do you think writing can fit a personality? I do, yours does mine. I learnt so much about nature and literature from your still sadly missed Saturday morning Times words.
Thanks again!
I hope both you and Eddie manage to continue blogging when you can Simon. You’ve both given us a lot of pleasure with your thoughts and observations. The year keeps turning but there is almost always something new to see or watch. Great to hear that the marsh is thriving!
Thank you both from me too. We have been thoroughly spoilt. I have ‘A Singular Man’ and ‘Rewild Yourself’ on the go now and will have to make do with those for my daily Barnes fix till you return to this space!
Thank you so much Simon and Eddie loved everyone of your blogs
Kind Regards Rob Howell
Simon and Eddie, you’ve been so generous with your wild blogs. Rich, joyful and sustaining images for the heart and mind. Thank you for sharing them and I look forward to more whenever you can.
Warm wishes
Penny Woollams