Natural History

Out of events we  created for the BM125 project, grew poems that we are sharing here.  This is the second half of a poem that began in “A field rustles… parts 1 and 2”

When you visit Arbor Low or Minning Low or walk along an old road,  look at the fields around you as well as at the ancient monuments themselves. Our haymeadows hold their own stories

Poems are often best read out loud, so pause and share this with a friend. or if you are on your own, speak it to the wind and the flowers themselves

 

Hayfield, part 3

Futures are rooted in this rare and ancient place,
Still growing memories
Having fun in the river, catching insects,
A diving beetle!

Knapweed and burnet nod purple heads
Studding the rippling ribbons of colour
Black medick nods, yellow heads in the hot dry grass.
Seeds of the future in a rare and ancient place,
Lose the meadow and the memories wither too,
The cows across the field will sleep only in the present.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

Out of events we  created for the BM125 project, grew poems that we are sharing here.  This is the second half of a poem that began in “A Field rustles…”

When you visit Arbor Low or Minning Low or walk along an old road,  look at the fields around you as well as at the ancient monuments themselves. Our haymeadows hold their own stories

Poems are often best read out loud, so pause and share this with a friend. or if you are on your own, speak it to the wind and the flowers themselves

The rhythm of a scythe echoes across centuries
They walked where we walk,
Those old farmers on a summer day,
The slice and hiss of a blade and
The whetstone that hones the edge,
Finding shade under these same trees,
Cutting the waving grass from the same sward.

Harebell and cranesbill
Selfheal and tormentil,
Scabious and burnet,
The names are an enchantment
A spell for a meadow,
Whispered on a dusty wind
Colour, scent, pollen and promise,
Foxtail, cocksfoot,
Fescue, vernal and bent,
The rooted and the free,
Meadow brown and large white,
Ringlet and tortoiseshell,
Prayers blown between earth and sky.

Part 3 follows

 

 

As part of the BM125 project with the Museum, the Creeping Toad team created events in the Peak District landscape. From these events grew writing that we are sharing on this app.

When you visit Arbor Low or Minning Low or walk along an old road, we invite you to look at the fields around you as well as at the ancient monuments themselves. Our haymeadows hold their own stories

Poems are often best read out loud, so pause and share this with a friend. or if you are on your own, speak it to the wind and the flowers themselves

Haymeadows, part 1

We sink
Into a field rustling and bustling with life,
Into a froth of grass,
Into a sea of grasshopper sound,
A dream where nothing changes.
The cows sleeping under a willow
Have been resting there for centuries.

Memories are rooted in these meadows,
In the fleeting lives of butterflies,
In nodding seedheads,
In thistledown drifting on a hot breeze.
Farms, families, paths, tools and stories,
All knitted to the earth as tightly as the turf.
Childhood holidays rooted here too,
New names, first meetings,
Stonechats, curlews, those grasshoppers again

Part 2 follows