butterbeep

summertime…

The fields of Britain are alive with soft light and the networked chatter of nesting birds.We live in a small cottage nestled in the countryside and it is a great pleasure to watch the birds that nest under our eaves flying back and forth, worm-hunting, nest-building.

I too, and worm-hunting. Looking for juicy media, fat projects, writhing unformed and blind in the dirt. I too, am nest-building, bringing those worms back to my nest and trying to build life, value, forward momentum, until the deep summer when my fledgelings take wing and become poets of the skyways.

Any worms, send them my way.