Ash in Arctic light A north wind brings an Arctic chill and a remarkable clarity of light. Ash buds burst open in deep purple flowers against a sky of intense blue with puffs of white cloud. Linnets make their nests amongst yellow flowering gorse. A female redstart spreads her tail with a flash of colour, and flies. Last spring, a male sang from this ash tree. Up on Scout Scar ash trees grow rooted in rafts of limestone clitter- sharp slates that clatter beneath your feet. A shower of hail dances over the stones, striking out a rare melody. Crouch down close and listen.
Gorse engulfing hawthorn- a safe perch for linnet, wheatear and willow warbler
Well before 7.00am, sunlight falls obliquely from the east, catching the trees in a play of light and shadow. Their limbs reach out in an elusive dance drama. There is no one here, I am alone and on such a day these ash trees burst into life. I sense an animation I perceive all too rarely. There’s a conversation between them if I listen closely, if I step over the threshold and enter their world. I’m not alone in feeling the spirit of trees but it isn't an every day thing. It’s a gift of the north wind and Arctic light.
White cloud engulfs the sun and the momentary effect is lost. I watch cloud scudding across the sun, waiting for sunlight to ignite the trees, to confer this peculiar magic. To share this experience, if it can be shared, you must enter into the spirit of the day, to the solitude, the bitter air that pours down on the north wind and gives that purest light.
White cloud engulfs the sun and the momentary effect is lost. I watch cloud scudding across the sun, waiting for sunlight to ignite the trees, to confer this peculiar magic. To share this experience, if it can be shared, you must enter into the spirit of the day, to the solitude, the bitter air that pours down on the north wind and gives that purest light.
I can recreate tree-magic on my computer. Ash tree images on slide show seem three dimensional as they fade one into another. It’s as if I’m airborne over the limestone and gliding through the trees.
Thursday came sleet and snow. The early morning light was stunning. I stood on Scout Scar escarpment watching a rain cloud flow across the Lyth Valley until it threw down hail upon me.
Thursday came sleet and snow. The early morning light was stunning. I stood on Scout Scar escarpment watching a rain cloud flow across the Lyth Valley until it threw down hail upon me.
Kendal Castle, with overnight frost and snow on distant fells.
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