The landscape grey and green:

low cloud obscuring high ground,

lush spring growth below.

The distant clack, clack of a gate

and voices carrying from the hill.

A cow calls from the top

and a lamb cries for its mum.

The dusk chorus is in full swing:

a woodpecker yaffles a warning,

a cuckoo repeats goodnight.

The flip flop of welly on calf

as I swish through wet grass.

A waft of badger’s musk,

then the scent of elderflowers.

It’s time to make cordial!