Frost

Frosty leaves, a stonewashed denim blue sky. A speckled starling’s breast illuminated in the sun on Windmill Road.  Chaffinches jump from tree to tree by the side of the Middleton Railway line. A single rain drop dangles on the end of a leaf, a remnant of the heavy rain which fell two days ago. It is impossible to pick up the translucent beauty of the rain drop by taking a photograph, it is far too delicate. Robins sing a melody above the drone of commuter traffic.

A pinprick of light emerges at the top of the wagon way. Stepping through soft mud, I reach the lake at Middleton Park. Several coots and moorhens are out on the lake making sounds like air hissing out of rubber tyre. Molehills surround Nick’s View and as my gaze turns skywards I see vapour trails left by jets on their way to Leeds Bradford Airport. Nettles poke through gaps in red benches by the Rose Garden. A jogger listens to the radio as she moves swiftly through the woods. Her gaze is fixed on the ground, on the pounding of her feet. Squirrels make scratching noises on the bark of a magnificent oak tree. Emerald moss covers the branches of the stately trees on the carriageway. I startle a robin and I see right into two black bead eyes.