Twitching {A weekend of bird watching, chick rescue and feeding the very hungry swans}

the whirl and sweep of wings

the bleating honk of an anguished goose

the lightweight heartbeat fluff of a wire caught scrambling chick

˙Boxes and Promises˙

I made this box today to house/nest my friend Jane's birthday gift. 

I've been collecting empty boxes for a while now and they are piling up and I have to use them before they disappear under landscapes of dust. I would like to say that I am going to make a different box every few days and post it here as a project. 

If I say it then I might actually do it.

I like putting myself under pressure.

Especially now the builders are working here behind the hedge.

Walking today...

when the swans flew over my head like prehistoric creaking flying machines, blotting out the January sun. I collected kindling in an derelict wood where the floor mulched and squelched with years of toppled trees and unchecked growth while black funghi on ancient bark sprouted with dark mossy hills of inky poison.

I have words and words colliding within me... stacked up and up, with no air traffic control to guide them safely and gently down.