Listen

Listen Exmoor Almanac                                                       The dipper that afternoon by the Exe threaded a high necklace of song above the river’s onrush.   Dived in and re-emerged, shaking its wings clear of the water, sang once more, blink of...
Slow Worm

Slow Worm

Slow worm Heat me and I live again. feel the blood move over the bones edge, where limbs raise me off the sand and now remain a vestigial display. Fear me for a moment, an elemental demon in tall, swaying grass but, when my eyelids drop, ‘that which is not a...