An Autumn Day on the Wirral Way Swamped in sensual delight on coastal paths where Natures descent into disorder sees days of dragon breath heat chill in simmering banter with Autumn while maples and oaks look on in stages of undress blushing in their falling foliage, many are the burdened boughs of braeburn, bittersweet their spoils of late summers fruition. Jumping from my bike, enraptured I kick up a frenzied fuss of yellowing greens that whip a breeze around my knees till there before me the prickly gift of horse chestnut seen, such joy is the perfect seed that promises conker kudos. Eyes catch glimpses of staghorn sumac flaunting purple panicles, exuberant these conical clusters line my passage to the music of lemon gorse exploding its seed in my wake, here the skylarks song calls from high above hedgerows teeming with sloe, hips and haws and lingering insects fall like drunken fools that supped last orders from end of season berries mouth-wateringly ripe their syrup drips from lips and fingertips stained pink in the pensive rays of dappled sun. I stop to marvel at soiled beds where life and death lay side by side as seeds nestle under blankets of scattered leaves beneath hawthorn wild and untamed its spirit bending with the wind yet still, naturally curling up and around from central haven. How amazing this tilted earth that ends this day finding me feverishly swaying to the highs and lows of season and tide in a passionate dance with this nights Harvest moon.
Posted on: Wed, 18 Sep 2013 17:41:11 +0000
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