Nature Plays The Tune

Five dogs, no cats and more birds to
the acre than an open aviary – we’re
close to Nature in a way the dogs
explain as simply living easy. A hare
that rarely hurries to escape would
say the same, runs with ears pinned
back – lopes away with supple grace.

Orchard snakes compete with stylish
subterfuge, a rueful camouflage which
has them blend into a chosen niche; it
doesn’t pay to ruffle them – we rarely
do. The Glebe who runs the dam has
raise five chicks again, the ducks were
less than lucky with their four; hens

still lay erratically – 10 for yesterday,
today I’d hazard 6 or more. Though
eggs sell well I have to say they eat
their daily weight complete in grain!
A month’s supply of last year’s fruit
still hangs on trees despite the rain,
we pick and pack lethargically – a test

of resolution bested by two recent
weddings in an atmosphere of pure
largesse. More trips away, more beer
to make and drink. I think we need a
rest; yet Nature plays a subtle tune
that makes us dance, a waltz to which
we glide within the sweetest trance.
© 25 January 2008, I. D. Carswell