Elvers by Moonlight

A harvest festival

The theological sophistication of mice

Oct 31 • 

David Knowles

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September 2025

Deep black waters and a young wren’s song

Caught in a flash flood of anomie

Sep 22 • 

David Knowles

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August 2025

Late evening on a limestone pavement

… or wherever it is that you go to confess

Aug 24 • 

David Knowles

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The silver thread

A different old man and a different sea

Aug 10 • 

David Knowles

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July 2025

An intimacy of sounds

A fool arrives back where he started

Jul 27 • 

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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 • 

David Knowles

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June 2025

Before the door closes

They say that newly-hatched birds will imprint onto just about anything which moves.

Jun 25 • 

David Knowles

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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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May 2025

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 • 

David Knowles

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All glory is fleeting

Crab apples and Westmorland damsons

May 7 • 

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April 2025

In a long dry spell

Spring moles and badger bones

Apr 23 • 

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The potter and her protégé

Limestone and rose hips in Featherfall Gill

Apr 9 • 

David Knowles

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