Battlehill – observations from the edge of the wood, Maureen Ross

Place 1

The ground slopes away to a big beech. Its many branches rise from a thick trunk – all dark, back-lit by the evening light.

Looking up, the canopy of leaves lets in the white light from the sky in scattered pieces like a static sparkling firework.

Birds are singing all around.

I can hear loose drops rain on the leaves. Most of them don’t seem to reach the ground.

Beyond the tree the ground continues to slope – over an old stone wall, over a roof top and rises again up and over the intensity of a copper beech till it reaches the horizon on a far away hill.

The rest of the evening light continues to shine through the vegetation around the foot of the tree making it glow.

A large drop of summer-warm water lands on my head. I move on.


Place 2

This is the very edge of the wood. A broom bush in full flower stands guardian to the open field.

Here small blue flowers reflect the evening light that reaches in from the field. Their names are speedwell and forget-me-not. Is this a message?

Behind me the wood rises up thicker and deeper and further from the open field.

A collared dove calls Alas poor Betty. Alas poor Betty in a slow syncopation.

I notice one of the forget-me-nots is completely white. The ghost of poor Betty?










Place 3

This piece of edge of wood marches with a field of buttercups.

And here there’s a huge hawthorn heavy with blossom and scent, flanked in its clearing of grass and ferns by an old high gorse.

The gorse breathes out the astonishing smell of tropical coconut. It catches the yellow from the buttercup field and throws it in my eye.

A strange bird call comes from the wood behind me – a deep
de whoop doo de whoop doo
What is that?

More little blue flowers – ones I don’t know but these are yellow tormentil.

Through the green plant stems there are little white froths of cuckoo spit.

The rain has found its way down through the leaves in greater splashing numbers now. I move further into the deep dark wood to escape.








Battlehill – observations from the edge of the wood, Maureen Ross

16th June 2010 7:30 – 8:30 pm