Evading the Lampers

The events of the last couple of weeks had taken their toll upon me. Days of dealing with two faced contractors & their political games followed by nights of reading planning documentation, checking policies, finding unsaid truths and unravelling statements designed to mislead had left me physically tired and mentally stretched. In the early evening I sat on the back step of the hovel and watched the full moon over the fields and crops. Gentle hints of colour seemed to shift in the bright white light and I could find a moment to relax. I stepped inside as I felt a heaviness creep over my limbs and sat within the folds of a comfortable chair. It was not long before sleep took hold and hours slipped by with the tumbling images of dreams providing my mind with a show real of the surreal.

The mind show seemed to halt all of a sudden in the early hours of the morning. My eyes flicked open and my conscious mind seemed to be making sense of something barely perceived during my slumber. I stepped out of the back door to look over the darkened countryside, I was aware of an engine ticking over somewhere close by, after a few more moments a light mounted high on a pick up truck flicked into life and scanned the fields before switching off. I wondered if the lampers were after rabbits until I heard the artificial sound of a rabbit distress call. It would appear that they were after shooting foxes out here in the arable fields. The lamp clicked on again and began another sweep of the field, it crept around closer to the hovel and I stepped onto the back step to ensure I would be visible to them. The light passed over me and promptly switched off. I stepped back inside for a moment to inform my good lady of my observations and also to grab a flash light. By the time I stepped onto the road I could hear their truck reverse and head off in the opposite direction. I padded after them for some ten minutes or so to see if they were up to no good but they had driven off into the night.

Quietly I returned to the spot where I had seen the truck and stood in silence. The breeze rustled the crops and leaves of the hedgerow, a sharp bark of a fox cut the night air. The fox was close, perhaps within 20 yards. As I stood in the darkness I broke into a smile and laughed. This fox certainly deserved its reputation of a creature of cunning and guile after evading the lampers. Suitably impressed and with the lane echoing to the sound of my amusement I returned home feeling lighter in my heart, perhaps my dreams and mood will also be lighter for a while too.

Sorrow, Desire & a Cry of Understanding

When I first began blogging I sent time reading sites to pick up hints. One site mentioned a blogger should not apologise for not posting for a while and simply carry on with new posts. I am going to happily break that rule now and make that apology. I often have difficulty with internet connections here and when I am heavily taxed with work it becomes difficult to get time to combine my thoughts with the ability to get online. However, I always carry on with my observations and store them safely until I get chance to put them here for those who may take the time to read.

For those who visit and persevere with reading The Quiet of Night you have my thanks.

Since my last post I have witnessed many beautiful things and also seen the darker side of life too. I was looking forward to putting down words and a sketch to paint a scene but a simple notice has drawn my attention and my anger.

A village close to me has always been prone to the attention of developers, the prospect of changing land from rural use to the built environment has always drawn them. Yet again they are attempting to change the quiet English lands to a fattened bank balance and the chance to run away with a hefty profit. The usual games are being played where the developer appoints local "business people" to promote their cause or as I would prefer to think of it "30 pieces of silver". I have seen the games played many times before and many times the outcome shows the developer or owner heading for new homes well away from the development and ruined lands to enjoy their ill gotten gains. The investors recruited by their agents will be similarly disassociated, success will be measured by a figure within a bank balance and the prospect of pointing to a name within a brochure as an area of safe investment and standing. The natural history and importance of the rural lands can so often take second place.

Once again I find myself looking into the planning policies and guidance to put together a reasoned argument to stand in the way of such greed. As always I will do my best, there are many creatures and existences unable to stand up and make themselves heard in such an arena so I will do what I can to let them speak through me. I only wish more people would see such things and have such considerations.

No doubt I will take the time to update things here as time passes. I hope you find a quiet peace and stability where you are and are away from such matters.

Fond regards

Owl

Enraptured in the Solstice

The long evenings around the time of the summer solstice have brought with them a curious mix of weather, one evening brings with it the drumming of constant heavy rain and another the lightest of floating clouds high above a setting sun. Dark greens of the landscape grow taller with the changing weather and I find I am often lifting my arms clear of the nettles as I find my way down sodden paths. Rivers are full with water coursing its way to the coast and the low light is reflected from the pools within the ruts of the field.

It only takes a few hours of observation to watch how the birds adapt to the patterns within the season. For a moment I stood on rickety timber bridge watching a male sparrowhawk making his way down the line of a hedge as he set up a raid on the village back gardens near by. Blackbirds calling a warning cry as he took to the air staying low and tight to the ground before hurtling over the timber fence towards his prey. A gentle stroll later and I reached the edge of the grasslands, two barn owls were patrolling the skies keeping watch over the fields and the ditches for voles as the cruised silently on soft wings. They took full advantage of the clear spell of weather to hunt, there is a good chance one of the open barns tucked away in the rural network could hold owlets awaiting a meal.

Within a half a mile I watched the kestrel hovering by the side of the country road. Sandy wings beating a furious pace in the gentle warming sunlight to hold the falcons position motionless as the keenest eyes moved their gaze among the hedgerow and verge. A further half mile along the byway and I pass beneath the tall elder & oak trees, a buzzard takes to the air to move to a quieter perch away from the byway and the risk of being disturbed. Slow wing beats make best use of the last of the heat rising from the land and the gentlest of landings barely moved the lighter branches of the tree hiding the size and power of the bird.

As light passes beyond the horizon I find myself in the early darkness of night and blessed by the cool fresh breath of the night air. On such nights I realise I am witness to wonders beyond "better men", wrapped in realms of power and money they cease to look, listen and are afraid to walk where they may find themselves vulnerable. They miss so much and I find them to be greater fools for it.

On returning back to the hovel I sit and chat with my good lady, she excitedly tells me of watching the kestrels and of seeing their young brood. I delight in the conversation and the shared experience. I hope the second half of the solar year bring more sights, good fortune and understanding. Not just for us, but for all.

Moonlight Chords

The sounds of the summer rural night can be the gentlest of things. One such melody is the rustling of the hedgerow leaves with the undertones of my own footsteps on the byway, as we move forward we often pass by a traditional gypsy caravan tucked into the undergrowth where the byway meets a little used footpath. Earlier in the week I was drifting by as the gypsy lad practiced his guitar work, normally only his dog and the night itself set against the aroma of the caravans woodsmoke would be there to listen to the moonlight chords, but for a few moments we were there too. I had no desire to alert him to our presence or disrupt his playing with an announcement so we slowed for only a few heartbeats to appreciate the harmonies before vanishing to the depth of the darkness.

Unfortunately with the world of people there are contrasts to these sounds. Last evenings wander took me the same way but the air pulsed to an irregular and distant bass line. I followed the sounds and found myself on the outskirts of the local village. A Jubilee event was accompanied by a band who seemed largely ignored by the crowds gathered there. The area was draped in red white and blue bunting as people socialised and drank toasts to their queen. I travelled into the village with my companion and looked upon the curious mix of bare homes and those bearing the colours of the UK or St George flag, a few of the flags also carried the logos of corporate sponsorship. For a while I felt like a stranger in a strange land, I resolved that feeling by traveling back into landscape and away from the noise and clutter. Once I neared my hovel I could stand and watch the last of the greens fade with the setting sun. Beneath the moonlight I was returned to a realm of grey and silver with the sublime gentle rustle of the breeze through the leaves.

Here is a realm I understand, these are the colours of the land I love and it has its own anthem, both subtle and powerful. The celebrations and thoughts of leaders or those in opposition mean little. There is the land and the harmony of empathy & understanding or there is only the intrusion of noise of one form or another.

Strolling

A grey dawn pushed away the darkness and quiet of the night, with the passing hours the sun gained force and transformed the gloomy start to a bright and sunny day. After running errands for the morning I found myself strolling in a nottinghamshire suburban park with my oldest dog. I had an hour or so to pass while I waited for my good lady and had brought along my sketchbook to scribble down aspects that may catch my attention and my thoughts. The sketches from my nocturnal wanders are drawn from impression or memory once I get back to the hovel, my daylight excursion gave me chance to sketch with the subject before me.

The park was pleasant enough with young families taking full advantage of the warm morning to spend some time together. Children on brightly coloured bikes sped by closely followed by adults doing their best to keep pace and a careful eye on the excitable and enthusiastic little souls. The cacophony seemed to exist on another level from my thoughts. My senses took in the quieter corners of the park and I soon found myself finding places to sit and draw as my old dog meandered around. Stone steps stood alone next to an uneven pathway. Their worn and aged look gave the impression they were perhaps steps for past horse riders to mount and dismount with ease. Looking about it was easy to see no horses had been in the area for a great many years, but the steps remained like a curious forgotten token.

I finished my sketch and moved on passed neatly cut grass and planted boarders until I happened upon what appeared to be the remains of a haha. These ditches were often used on county estates to stop the livestock from finding their way onto the lawns and garden areas without the inconvenience of building a wall to spoil the view. Again it was obvious as I sat and sketched that no livestock had been here for considerable time, but as with the steps the haha remained.

With my observations and thoughts awakened to the park I began to find it a strange place. It was clearly enjoyed and appreciated by many, but for me it remained a highly diluted form of nature. The finely cut grass lacked the flora and fauna of the wilder areas I enjoy wandering. The trees were well manicured and placed, but they lacked the blossoms, residents and undergrowth of their rural kin. I was left wondering of the past and of previous civilisations attempts to show their control and dominance over nature by landscape and garden. I walked through the park gate and left the scene feeling fine but a little disjointed. I guess I will always tend towards the rural and the wild. It is there I find connection with the wider world and not the sanitised view preferred by others. I glanced across the road to a coffee shop, sitting patiently outside was a quiet and loyal dog waiting for his master to reappear. I doubt any of mine would be so restrained, they would surely voice their desire to be away and enjoying the migration of a pack. Perhaps this little dog would wish the same and I hope he and his owner would find such desires and instincts fulfilled.

The Qualities of Leadership (part 2)

With the chores of a working day done I took to familiar trails to clear my mind of lingering thoughts and set my thinking patterns to the wider world. Within an hour or so I returned back to the hovel ready to relax and contemplate. The small TV was a convenient way of looking upon the comings and goings of the world, albeit through the eyes and perceptions of the journalists who are granted air time.

It seems nothing changes, more news of debt crisis, politicians arguing, votes, ballots, strikes and protests. All of these was diffused by the usual sports round ups and celebrity gossip. The off button was a relief as was the chance to stand outside and feel the cool night air. One of the main issues I see while observing people is the factors surrounding leadership and the attitudes of those who follow. The movement of people to and from politicians and leaders is like a tide. It comes and goes but never really gets anywhere in the grand scheme of things. I have had the opportunity to vote for many years but I have never once cast it. I would hasten to add that this is not through apathy, I have simply never had the opportunity to vote for someone who I feel represents my views. I look upon the usual candidates and see either creatures from privilege backgrounds or those from the working classes looking to provide more for their own kind. For the voters it simply becomes a choice of who will provide them with the most or for the disillusioned it becomes a case of voting for an alternative to the currently elected as a form of protest. Either way it is of little matter, the tide moves and it will eventually return as we go no where.

Within the natural world leadership is a more interesting and balanced affair. Working within the environment and the balance of nature. Strength has meaning and failure has far greater consequence than a vote of no confidence. The natural world has its leaders, those creatures are also masters at working within and being part of their environment. Those who exceed their resource find nature will redress the balance quickly. Perhaps the difference between humans and the natural world is that humans have learned to cheat the system for a while, but for me it is obvious that nature will surely catch up in the long run. Debts run far deeper than a credit rating or a minus figure in the books and they will be collected. Perhaps I should give an example of my thinking.

I once worked within an office of a local authority, it was there I met a grossly overweight manager in charge of ensuring energy efficiency in buildings. He was a man proud of his position, his large Audi, big home and his many holidays. When one of the other managers challenged him over his personal environmental bad attitude (especially given his role within the authority)  he simply replied "I don't care, I will live how I want to and if the environment is a problem in future it will be my kids who have to sort it out,". In many ways I see this man as a tiny example of those who are sometimes given far greater positions of power. One of sadnesses I find in the self centered nature of such people is the lack of questioning and mindless head nodding of those who help grant them such positions.

From my own perspective the main quality of leadership is to accept responsibility for my own actions and to only put my trust into those who I believe have the same principles as I do. I have little time for those who float on the tides of opinion and short term personal gain. It seems to me that we are not encouraged to question too deeply on many issues, but it is the inquisitive mind backed by the knowledge and understanding of both the human environment and the natural world that allows for a discerning and balanced view.

I can only encourage you to think deeply my friends. It is the only way to see through the masks and deceptions to the core of the matter.

The Rabbits Leap

The last week had proven itself to be a difficult one. It seemed at every turn good sense and good intentions had been thwarted, resulting in me feeling somewhat punch drunk. As twilight began to set in after a long day, I decided to set myself and my wandering dog (from the post Searching in Circles) on the roads, fields, bridleway & footpaths close to the near by village. With the paths and roads riddled with puddles and heavily waterlogged we were soon weaving around and treading carefully to avoid wet feet and missed footings. I was thankful for the careful nature of the drivers who passed us by on the country lanes, most were gracious enough to dip their headlights and avoid ploughing through the standing water. Over the years I have become fairly adept at predicting the inconsiderate who spare no thought (or perhaps a malicious thought) as they leave you dazzled and drenched. As is often the case with people, when they cocoon themselves from nature, reality and the elements , their perspective and connection with the real world becomes skewed.

Once we were onto the quieter dirt track lanes I had to resist the temptation to unleash the dog as I would my others. It would appear this canine giant has a powerful hunting technique and had proven himself more than adept at catching rabbits. Unfortunately his hunting instinct can make him very single minded and difficult to recall once he has caught a scent and the onset of darkness on a damp night is not the time to test my dog handling abilities with a jet black dog capable of running for miles. As we walked I could see his attention snap onto a little figure huddled by the side of the track. The rabbit sensed eyes and perception upon him, powerful legs propelled the little creature towards the warren. I was dragged forward a few feet as my dog tried to follow until I could dig my heels in and halt the charge. I suspect the rabbit was expecting a chase as he accelerated before realising he was on the wrong side of a flooded ditch to reach the warren. In a gentle turn he kept up the furious pace and ran headlong towards the ditch, as the land turned to the black water he jumped and leapt the better part of seven feet to the undergrowth on the opposite bank. The landing was not elegant but the sight of a rabbit reflected in mid air over the flooded ditch was impressive. Later this year athletes will be long jumping for corporate sponsored medals in London, I can safely say I will not be watching. The leap this little creature took and the risks of failing make a mockery of the attention such athletes seek.

With the rabbit safely back to the burrow, we carried on enjoying the sights, sounds and smells of the late evening. There was just enough light left to gaze upon the emerging bluebells in the long grass beneath the trees and the stark contrast of white blossom standing proud against the darkening canopy. What had started off as a wander to take my mind off the failings of a week had become inspiration itself, together with more fond memories and lessons learned.