By Scott Bailey © 2013
Two trees
Old as memory
Some leaves fallen
A root cut off
Two trees
Explored
Examined
Noted down.
Two trees drawn together
Forever entwined.

Two trees
Old as memory
Some leaves fallen
A root cut off
Two trees
Explored
Examined
Noted down.
Two trees drawn together
Forever entwined.
You people don’t understand.
It’s tradition.
It’s sport.
It’s in our genes.
Blood.
Jobs are created
By the sport we choose.
By the blood we shed.
Surely that’s enough.
Of course
The same can’t be said
For you
And your cock fights.
The man in the tree
The plank
The turned leg
The joint
The dust and the shavings.
The tree in the man
The setting down of deep roots
The reaching for the skies
The drinking deep of the earth
The steadfastness and the wielding.
This weekend we decided to relax a bit and get out and about in the country. This was partly down to my musings about bird watching. My wife wanted to do some walking, as did I, rather than cycling this time around. The two things – bird watching and walking – immediately made me think of the marshes near us. Haven’t been there for years and what a surprise! It’s always been a lovely place to walk, now it has been taken over by a wildlife trust and they have made some great improvements – including installing some bird watchers hides.
After that, we went to a local woodland park that used to be a gunpowder mill. I have never been there – tough Rachel and the kids have. Again I was pleasantly surprised.
Anyway here are a few pictures of the day – and I am hoping there some ornithologists or keen birders out there who might help identify some of these.
This one spookily fits today’s Daily Prompt. #DailyPrompt
A bit of guest post here – from Bailey junior – courtesy of homework duty.
By Alexander Bailey
My family and I went for an adventure in the park.
First, we went over the bridge to play pooh sticks.
Also, we went on a nature walk and rare yellow 7 spotted ladybird.
Next, we climbed a really big hill that had a windy path that led to a secret hideout. Also, the path was very steep.
We also saw more hideouts.
After that, we rolled down a grassy, muddy hill.
Then we went bird watching and saw some ducks and a dove. After that, we played pooh sticks again.
On last Thursday I went scootering with my grandad and cousin.
We also made a den at home.
A bit of guest post here – from Bailey junior – courtesy of homework duty.
By Alexander Bailey
My family and I went for an adventure in the park.
First, we went over the bridge to play pooh sticks.
Also, we went on a nature walk and rare yellow 7 spotted ladybird.
Next, we climbed a really big hill that had a windy path that led to a secret hideout. Also, the path was very steep.
We also saw more hideouts.
After that, we rolled down a grassy, muddy hill.
Then we went bird watching and saw some ducks and a dove. After that, we played pooh sticks again.
On last Thursday I went scootering with my grandad and cousin.
We also made a den at home.
Having finished National Poetry Writing Month and it being a bank holiday weekend I decided to take a few days off from blogging. And boy does it show. Stats have dropped to zilch, nada, a big fat zero.
But hey – it’s not about the stats – however much I obsess over them. Honest. I am doing this to try to stretch my writing muscles, build my confidence and build a join a community of friendly like-minded people. I have certainly done that.
But I am not taking on any more daily challenges. I will still try to post but on a less regular frequency now. And it will be more of a mix of writing and journal entries hopefully.
I am going to spend some more time on the relaunch of my book and the launch of my second (very different) one. So watch this space.
But talking of journalling and the bank holiday weekend.
We took the opportunity to get out and about this weekend. We left chores and work and all other plans to one side and had some quality family time. It had to be done on a tight budget but we had a good time. We spent one day in a park, trying to find and photograph as many wild birds and flowers as we could. Didn’t really see many wild birds. Saw quite a few flowers (have no idea what any of them are) and on the trip back we also saw a mangy looking fox roaming the town in broad daylight! The park also had a play ground with a giant slide and a secret tunnel. They boys were in their element – as well as many fallen branches and sticks as could be carried.
Our eldest is obsessed with Minecraft at the moment and decided he was going to collect enough wood to make himself a real life crafting table.
The next day we managed to fond cheap tickets to go and see Home – which I can really recommend for younger kids. They loved it. We then spent the rest of the day down the sea front. The day after was also spent at a fair by the sea.
So it’s been an outside in the sun and wind weekend, and I think it has done us good.
Here’s a few shots from the weekend.
Last night we had rain in biblical quantities. Hard, heavy rain that made a noise like hailstones. I didn’t really give it a thought. Unusual for the time of year – even in Britain – but not unheard of.
So when Rachel woke me up at 2.30am to investigate the sound of running water I was not best pleased. I had not heard her fully describe the issue though – probably due to my general sleepiness and string of bad language at being woken up for what seemed a trivial thing.
I put on the first pair of boots came across, normal ankle high work type boots, and stepped out the back door to have a quick look and placate Rachel.
Not a good idea. The water flowed over the top of my boots up my leg.
We had a major flood. It was lapping at the step of the back door. Wheelie bins were floating around as were half their contents and the kids tent was completely washed out.
Our garden has two level, it is lower near the back door then steps up halfway towards the back. The entire lower level was no basically a pond.
There was not much I could do at 2.30 in the morning beyond checking that it our hose pipe was off and we had no leaks anywhere – i.e. the flood was the result of the downpour and nothing else.
Next morning it turned out we had a blocked drain. Between the upper and lower level of the garden there is a drainage channel. This had over the years become totally blocked. So I had to left the grills and dig out the gunk, then grab an old tent pole to ram down the actual outlet until I finally freed the blockage and all the water rushed away.
Not the Sunday morning I had in mind.
Anyway – the reason for relaying all this was more interesting. The drainage channel outlet is under a very vibrant bush we have – so I had to crawl under this to get to it and start the business of unblocking it. While is was busy ramming it in I looked up and found myself face to face with this little fella!
It seems nature was quick to capitalise on the situation and this frog decided he was going to move in to this ready made pond before anyone else.
Not sure what he is going to do now his pond has disappeared as quickly as it came.
Alexander was very excited and had named him Mexico, as this is the team he is in for the school sports day tomorrow. Something we only found out a few days ago which is why the rest of Sunday was spent trying to find a Mexico football team green t-shirt for him. Thanks for that school.
Yellow meadow bright
In one corner, rusty red
An old iron shed
Get the previous ones here
http://wp.me/P3kG6h-bb and get my début novel Mankind Limited
Two trees
Old as memory
Some leaves fallen
A root cut off.
Two trees
Explored
Examined
Noted down.
Two tree drawn together
Forever entwined.
Get the previous ones here
http://wp.me/P3kG6h-bb
You people don’t understand.
It’s tradition.
It’s sport.
It’s in our genes.
Blood.
Jobs are created
By the sport we choose.
By the blood we shed.
Surely that’s enough.
Of course
The same can’t be said
For you
And your cock fights.
Get the previous ones here
http://wp.me/P3kG6h-bb
The man in the tree
The plank
The turned leg
The joint
The dust and the shavings.
The tree in the man
The setting down of deep roots
The reaching for the skies
The drinking deep of the earth
The steadfastness and the wielding.
Get the previous ones here
http://wp.me/P3kG6h-bb
Just got in today! With another new form A Minute Poem – or in this case a last-minute poem.
Bright flakes of light in dappled leaves
that float on down
where saplings grow
and settle low
And earthy scents rise in the air
As underfoot
leaves crunch and fold
red-brown and gold
The rusty fence that holds it in
it holds us too
back from that time
when we roamed free