Hunted Fox.....always on the run.

I'm picking fat juicy blackberries lining the footpath this morning ....keeping a wary eye out for any silent walkers approaching from behind me...

when I hear it ...The Hunt....the bugle  horn ... mens's voices calling, shouting..... the dogs baying...

close by....maybe in the next field.

But I can't see them as the hedge is too high...too thick.

I thought it was illegal...fox hunting .

I feel  angry ......and quite ill at the thought of a wild creature being hunted down...

 the fear of the fox....

running for its life.

 A quick tiny wren...

with a strong loud song.

Back home

this sweet robin visits me while I'm sitting  under the oak tree...

and I count seven long tailed tits at the bird feeders ...

only two starlings...

and this cat in the long grass of the field...watching them....watching me.

The hydrangeas are beginning to turn brown...

 and the blackberries in my garden are not nearly as ripe as the ones bordering the barley field.

I keep meaning to take a box to collect some while I walk but I always forget. 

Before he sees me I watch this cat ...a different one ...

chasing something in the long grass by the stream. Another hunter.

I spend most of the day gardening ...even getting sunburnt this afternoon while I pull up weeds in the front bed that I planted at the beginning of the summer.... begonias, salvia, calla lilies and shasta daisies...all burgeoning now....forgetting as I always do that summer will come to an end.

My dear friend who comes for tea and chocolate biscuits, and who knows about these things, says that the soreness in my left thumb is my lung meridian....seemingly over active ....but actually quite empty and low ...hidden by my drivenness....living on sheer will power...concealing the chronic tiredness and seam of grief  lurking below the surface.

My hunted fox...always on the run.

 And  the moon tonight ....hidden behind the clouds....but still shining through .