Yesterday evening, 18th April, went down to the orchard where I’m levelling out a piece of ground in preparation for a large polytunnel.
It’s a job that’ll take ages because the earth is sodden (due to all the rain we get.)
Anyway, I was lighting a fire in the studio stove and had to empty the previous day’s ashes and I thought where better than on the ground for the polytunnel?
Well I got down there and disturbed a young Irish hare which immediately flew off at great speed. How I love those gentle timid creatures. And can they run!
I cannot understand how some men can be so cruel and barbaric as to send their dogs after them…
And as I was walking back to the studio I heard the voice of a cuckoo calling in the distance somewhere and immediately felt a sense of joy.
Such things matter.
peter robinson fine art 
Well said!
Beautiful Poetry!
Glad you had a good day outside!
ROCK ON!
The cuckoo call is pure and utter magic. Like the scent of daffodils or wallflowers. Natural sounds and smells take me back to childhood and memories. To a time when the world seemed full of promise and goodness. The world now, however, is crazy. Religion and politics, which is the same barbaric thing, dressed up in different clothes, coupled with the uncontrolled passions of men, (and the corona virus,) are slowly destroying everything. Lol.