foraging

“May, May the merry month of May“. I’m no Julie Andrews but this is the time of year when we begin to…

February, Faoilleach,  the wolf ravage. Imbolc and La Fheill Bride. The month of two halves. The beginning, a full on winter…

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