WILLOW POLLARD AT HARVEST TIME

This was definitely NOT the best (rarest/most emotive) photograph of the day, but it does mark the stage in the seasons that we have reached.

The day started with a grim and stunning discovery. The local Kestrel, that we had been seeing at least once a week, had just upped and died. It was lying there in the yard unmarked. I suppose it's number simply came up. It's glorious feather patterns and colours made the best image but it didn't feel good to share it here, so I did not.

As the day progressed, a trailor load of harvested willow was retrieved, as has become the annual custom, from Carol and Richard who prune their pollards around Easter each year. Now their pollards are primed to shoot glorious rich new shoots all through the next 12 months and I am set to go ahead with willow weaving on a grander scale than ever before. That is pretty positive and you need that every time the reaper calls.