13/09/2026
I am sure I am not alone in this feeling. I feel such a frustration at the daily grind, so broken by the need to stay on the treadmill to feed the fat cats. I want to create, to read, write and feed my soul.
The woods, poetry, music are my salvation.
I loved the woods this morning, as I do every day, but it is such a relief now to feel the cooler air, the still warm raindrops, the palpable relief from the animals, the plants. It feels like suddenly we can breathe freely again.
Spiders, it seems, have been unaffected. We have some large and impressive beasts in the cottage right now, suddenly emerging from the coolness of the crevices. We have an arrangement, living in harmony unless they feel the need to lurk too closely. The web across this tree this morning glistened, accentuated by the water droplets and the darkness of the moss on the bark.
Everywhere is a vibrant green right now, and yet brown leaves carpet the ground as if they have already dropped for the winter hibernation. A strange contrast.
As we walk, the hound and I, two sweet chestnut fruit thud on the ground in front of us like tiny grenades. This year will not be the same harvest as last year's mast year.
And so back to the little cottage. A day of furniture shuffling.
I hope some of you like the music. It is my favourite song ever. Long live our ancient woodlands.
