“May, May the merry month of May“. I’m no Julie Andrews but this is the time of year when we begin to…
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February, Faoilleach, the wolf ravage. Imbolc and La Fheill Bride. The month of two halves. The beginning, a full on winter…
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As I get deeper into the woods I hear the cry of a Common Buzzard above me, I think it’s telling me I’m on its turf as it circles me above the trees. I see great tits and chaffinches darting between the evergreens and I rest for a bit in a pine needle covered clearing. I can see the white resin of the Scots pine running down a few of the trunks and have a scratch at it, releasing that fresh pine scent as it sticks to my fingers