Tuesday, 1 November 2016


Walking in the Quantock hills I glimpsed a pool from the path - dark, peaty, almost black. 
Autumn leaves released from the trees above floated on the mirrored surface banking up in the mud.
Leaning in from the edge to avoid wet feet. I couldn't see myself, but saw a perfect reflection of the world above.
The warm, late October sunshine, smell of earth and decaying chlorophyll complemented the vapour-trail blue sky and created a canvas of stillness.
A child might test the surface of the water and disturb the fragile balance of perfection - I held my breath.
Wendell Berry's poem The Peace of Wild Things comes to mind.

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