The Return of the White Shadows

Setting out in the late afternoon I find myself in a realm of colour, the red of the hawthorn berries against the yellow greens of the turning trees in the hedgerows and all against a backdrop of sky blue. The young rabbits are ever present at the edge of the long grass taking their chance to dash across the county lanes while flocks of sparrows flit along the edge of the fields taking their fill and making the best of the hedgerows cover from the threat of the sparrowhawks who seem to melt from sight in the taller trees until a careless bird strays too far from the safety of the flock and foliage.

As time passes and the sun lowers, the horizon takes it crimson hue, throwing long shadows as the air begins to cool. Fluttering wings of the kestrel portray a mastery of controlled flight, holding position over the ditches and field edge. Dipping and repositioning further down the lane after the land has been scoured by the piercing eyes of the little falcon. Across the field the vixen takes her turn to run, this rural predator shows no desire to raid close to the village before the cover of darkness.

Night draws in with soft steps and quiet miles, the breeze and gentle rustling of leaves fills the senses of hearing and touch as the blue fades to the horizon and the depths of space are revealed overhead. As my eyes adjust to the silvers, grey and black of the nightscape I am treated to the rising white form from the ditch further down the lane. The Barn Owl floats and drops on silent wings, they have been a rare and distant sight in the past summer but the cloudless evening and the harvesting of the small creatures has summoned them from their roosts to grace the darkness like white shadows.

Within the quiet of the land, the cycles of time, nature and light are turning in harmony.