Three Sisters - Trees From My Window

Like so many people in this lock-down emergency I have found it hard to concentrate on my normal creative pattern of reading and writing. The public dilemma tends to bleed one of both emotional and physical energy.

But finally, finally I have begun to write again, inspired by this semi imprisoned situation – liberated by looking out of my big bay window.

Thing are different now aren’t they? I have abandoned my little writing room upstairs and also my bigger office downstairs and retreated to the single writing table inside the bay window on the sunny side of the house. This is always a favourite place.

From here I can see the overgrown lawn and the over-sprouting shrubs - suffering from enforced neglected throughout this lockdown. But more important than this I can see the trees all around this garden which – when the house was built 150 years ago - was a piece of ancient woodland belonging to the Dean and Chapter – the office of the Bishop of Durham.

So, relishing an escape from interminable domestic commitments, I have spent my lock-down at my table writing, supervised by the hares who act as my quality controllers. They are mad March hares. It certainly has been a mad March, hasn’t it?

Locked down here I have become obsessed with the movement and identity of my ancient trees.
So here is my first completed work in progress -   a short-line pieces called 

  Three Sisters

 With fluttering leaf-fingers

and nobbly branch-elbows

three lanky sisters stand

side by side,  elbow to elbow,

nodding their heads and

gently touching each other,

relishing the ever present chime of birdsong.

 

Their ancient brothers,

high as the house,

stride the steep bank

unimpeded by ivy.

Tangled up, overgrown -

their thick trunks are

embroidered with wild, wandering creepers.

Ankle-deep in the skeletons of

five-year-old leaves, the pathways

wind between the trees. And

bluebells, spawned by ancient bulbs,

blunt-nose their way between the

roots of ancient colonising trees -

 a deep blue glimpse through

the veil of filtered sunlight.

Outside my window

three lanky sisters

stand side by side.

Wendy Robertson. May 2020 

 

  

 Keep Safe, keep well Wx