Elvers by Moonlight
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The ghost with a bucket that sings
The heron clocks off at the chimes of dusk and flies up high into the last of the valley’s light to find her way home.
Apr 2, 2024
•
David Knowles
219
97
34
A harvest festival
The theological sophistication of mice
Oct 31
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David Knowles
74
56
9
Deep black waters and a young wren’s song
Caught in a flash flood of anomie
Sep 22
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David Knowles
103
48
10
Late evening on a limestone pavement
… or wherever it is that you go to confess
Aug 24
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David Knowles
106
56
14
The silver thread
A different old man and a different sea
Aug 10
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David Knowles
18
24
2
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An intimacy of sounds
A fool arrives back where he started
Jul 27
•
David Knowles
109
43
15
The kingfisher
This morning is made of alabaster, too soft a stone for the monumental art of cathedrals. Her skin is almost white enough for sanctity, but for a blush…
Jul 9
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David Knowles
110
64
16
Before the door closes
They say that newly-hatched birds will imprint onto just about anything which moves.
Jun 25
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David Knowles
94
56
10
Sinkholes, swallows and possibility’s pot
It is more than a year now, since I began telling you tales of Mallerstang, the north-Pennines valley in which we live.
Jun 11
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David Knowles
80
43
5
The juniper tree and a vole’s soul
Up on Birkett Common, a short climb above our house, there is one last old juniper tree.
May 21
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David Knowles
166
100
30
All glory is fleeting
Crab apples and Westmorland damsons
May 7
•
David Knowles
116
71
8
In a long dry spell
Spring moles and badger bones
Apr 23
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David Knowles
91
37
12
The potter and her protégé
Limestone and rose hips in Featherfall Gill
Apr 9
•
David Knowles
99
53
14
A prayer of sorts
Discovering the limits of my cosmetic surgery insurance cover
Mar 26
•
David Knowles
127
69
24
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Elvers by Moonlight
A journal of everyday auguries and under-reported miracles
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Recommendations
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