strawberry sunrise

After spending the night gadding on the other side of the world, the sun crept in on Thursday morning, draped in a gauzy veil the colour of crushed strawberries.

(This mid-week post is brought to you in a shameless attempt to increase the number of visitors and views logged on the blog before the end of the year.)


Recently, I seem to be waking very early. One morning when I checked the time it was four minutes past four; it occured to me I should be writing a poem with the line “4:04: sleep not found”.

404 error pages

That idea didn’t seem to go anywhere, but here are a few pre-dawn lines:

awake again at 4 am

birdsong weaves around the house;
the chorus swells and fades
in fugal waves of sibilance
to spin a spell that teases out
the softening grey.

dawn chorus

Early dawn over the Severn Bridge

The neighbour’s cat croons throatily;
songbirds squeak and whirr:
the new day eases slowly into gear.

time passes

2:00 am
Crickets creak a tripwire grid
across the garden.

4:00 am
The hoot of an owl glides like a shadow
from the heart of the tallest pine.

5:30 am
The rooster’s crowing wakens the hens
who peck and pick, unravelling
the fraying edges of the night.

6:00 am
Now, all the valley dogs are worrying
at the straggling ends of dark; they tug
and bark and run with them towards the morning.


(A draft – or perhaps just notes for a poem – which is very much a variation on a theme. I posted an earlier interpretation almost exactly two years ago as Alarm)

Incidentally, trying to find out what type of owl I was writing about, I found the Owl Pages site with its extensive selection of recordings. And having cross-referenced with the Iberia Nature site, I think I must be thinking of a tawny owl.