THE BADGER WATCH: 'AND THE WIND RUSHED'...

 And The Wind Rushed

Just late afternoon beside the lane.

The copse, sullen, soon surrendered to gloom,

As wind gusts hurried about, 

Scuttling, dishevelling, as it rushed.

Occasional raindrops hung

From disturbed leaves were then flung

At a myriad angles and randomly pushed

Aside by breezes with disdain… 

Just early evening beside the lane.

The copse lay with autumn’s detritus strewn,

As light’s variants worried about,

Straining, lingering, as if stressed.

Occasional blackbirds flung

Their dark forms onto plants, hung

At sad, low angles and proudly pressed

On with fussy refrain…

Pete Ray

29th October 2021  

After leaving scattered, acceptable food morsels for badgers and also replenishing their water supply, I stood and watched the damp, dull, dim copse slowly succumb to the advent of fine rain and darkness.

Only blackbirds moved, low to the ground and called piercingly…

But no badgers emerged to feed…