Crocodile Lurking

Of course, there are no crocodiles in England. I can’t help myself sometimes, but my imagination sees forms within forms, and my mind just connects the dots and we have a dragon sailing across the sky, but of course there are no dragons in England, either. It was only a cloud formation, and this is how some of us see the world. It has been so for me since boyhood.

You may only see a rotting log, or may well see something else entirely, but I see a half buried crocodile, trying to free itself from the earth. Imagination is such a wonderful gift, and I wonder if we are the only species on earth who are possesed with this gift.

Old Man Willow

Whenever I walk one of the local fields I always spy Old Man Willow standing sentinel-like on the edge.

He surveys his surroundings, and with his deep-fissured completion and leafy mop of hair, he is wisened and could tell you many a story if you had the time to stop and listen.

Standing there through the years as the sun and the moon and the stars pass overhead, as the seasons pass by in their cycle, nature is his world, and nature is his story.