AND THE WIND SLICED AT THE COPSE...

 And The Wind Sliced At The Copse

Scattered food was inspected by a robin, ruffled

By human presence, unsettled 

And shifting, a shadow in shade,

As a thin orange sunset on the horizon gleamed.

But a wind sliced cold in the leaf strewn glade…

Littered leaves lay distressed on the undulations 

Within the copse with its limitations,

And drifting, they skittered

As a drab dusk across the enclosure streamed,

Yet the wind shivered cold and my body jittered… 

Cluttered holes then revealed two badgers, becalmed,

Creeping from their setts, not alarmed 

And their lifting greyness slowly emerged,

As the developing draping darkness seemed

Drawn by the wind and daylight was purged…

Pete Ray

20th February 2022… 

A cold Saturday evening of sheep bleats and distant gunfire.…

I had just seen a soccer match in Studley and I then drove to Temple Balsall with food for the badgers. There was sufficient water remaining in the receptacles there due to the recent storms and rain however.

I shivered as the wind cut and sliced into the copse but still I lingered. 

Suddenly, a shape moved into my eye-line, that of a black dog, off its lead in a narrow but often busy lane, its elderly owner trailing some way behind.

It shoved its head into a sett entrance and began to eat the morsels of food left for the badgers.

Incredulous, I felt like yelling at it but it was finally called by its owner, who never knew that its pet had managed to acquire an impromptu feast.

As it moved away it became aware of me, a darkly hooded lurker and it suddenly yelped and dashed off to its ignorant owner…

When the two badgers emerged, I was so pleased because because they began to eat, crushing and munching. 

Then, as night enfolded the glade, I lost sight of them and I left, silently…