Thursday 5 November 2009

Up the road, afternoon.

Earth and air are moist and cold, but flooded with light.  Woodsmoke and the smell of fresh-turned earth, as  tractors with great bladed ploughs dance ponderously.

 A flock of lapwings.

1 comment:

The Crow said...

This post has a haiku feel about it, the way it flows - perhaps because, mostly, the last line.

Regardless, it is lovely and evocative. Thank you, Lucy.