Fire and Ice
A day of contrasts

I awoke to a still, grey morning that shimmered and tingled with hoarfrost; silvered leaves and blades of grass that crunched softly underfoot but within two hours it had gone. By midday the sun was shining, the grass green and lush once more. I put on my walking shoes and wearing jeans and top, my arms and shoulders bare I went for my walk, the sun as warm upon my skin as a soft and gentle springtime kiss.

What a beautiful day! The air was so warm and vibrant busy with movement, scents and sound.


The hedgerows chirped and chattered with flurries of wings, a tractor droned as it turned meadow into dark, rich loam, gulls screamed as they wheeled, dipped and dived as spray upon the wind. The scent of crushed grass and earth and then the raw stench of engine mingled with diesel fumes.
Spring turned to summer as I quickened my pace wanting to add a couple of miles to my walk by way of the river.


Two tornadoes sliced the skies like great birds of prey leaving in their wake a diminishing roar, and then the rush of water hitting rocks and the river came into view. Still swollen from the recent rains it surged under the bridge rising high on its banks as it swept onward dissecting the fields .


The skies grew deeper and the clouds became tinged with pink as I left the river and took the lane back to the village.

The sun sank and fell into the trees,
kindled -- flared
and set the sky aflame.
I paused and the world grew hushed
as if it too held its breath
and watched in wonder as
day departed in all her splender and left
without a sound.

Twilight descended wrapping its shadows around me
as cold tendrils touched my skin.
A blackbird sang in the gathering grey
and then was still.
I began walking again.
Time to go home.