starting

apart from small jobs like popping up some electric fencing for our sows, the first real, serious work has started....all the old, blocked drainage ditches are being cleared and reinstated, along with new pipework to drain the boggy part of the top field; the tired, twangy cow fencing torn down and reposted and strung with wire....its the haircut you dont realise you need, and the place feels invigorated, awake


the smallest river of the two, the wolf, is perhaps more a tributary of the large otter than river enough in itself, yet much of the historical activity of the place seems to have centred around it....theres a sluice, a weir, remnants of an old bridge with walls angled peculiarly, intentionally, for some unfathomed task....part-excavated in clearing the ditch draining the top field into the wolf, hopefully the records office will reveal more....and the kingfishers seem to like it, waiting until youve stopped looking to fly, only singing yards later, timed perfectly that you catch the blue but little form

moving and being still

in my teens i started work in an office, it seemed like the only step i could take into being an adult, but even as i did took it i felt like it was happening to someone else, that i became someone else....panic attacks, i couldnt breathe, petrified of an unknown badness, some terrifying event that was about to happen....my blood was too fast for my veins, my brain too large for my skull... 'is this it?' ...the slow exchange of a life...but i had a sense of a somewhere else where i would be alive, another life...i felt the whole of the world disagreeing...i left the job, released.





re-reading 'perch hill' i recognise something in adam nicholsons longing for connection...'i know of nothing bigger or finer than the feeling that all barriers are down and a full-blown flood is running between you and the rest of the world. i know all these things and treat them as my touchstones and my yardstick. is this life, i always ask, as good as that?'

Go to Otter Farm | by Mark D