Autumn equinoctial winds whip through neighbourhood lanes. It’s a circling back to this time last year when I began consciously noticing and photographing what’s happening with insect pollinators and other more-than-humans living here.
Hopping chaffinches laboriously harvest the oily black seeds spinning out of cracked flax pods. And the wax eyes have arrived back in the hebes, picking at a potpouri of seed heads. Swollen fruit and berries – from flowers fertilised earlier by pollinators – begin to release and die. A profusion of their seeds scatter out. Capsules of future life. The valley reminds me of the repeating pulses, patterns and cycles. Old friends again.
Continue reading “Seeds, winds, circlings”
Edge of Things 