Pollard

On thys daye I did my bench to the coppice take, and thereto did cut away at my pollard-tree and away came I with fresh wythes

I have climbed the mountain
I have seen the pillar of fire
I have stood in a field and faced a thousand men

Goose!

Today the geese have returned

Words

Climb the cliff to catch
The days last light
And see from shaded soil
The ice encrusted treetops still lit
Illuminated enflamed
Sparkling glittering refracted radiance

Melt

Last night did not get below freezing. There is still a lot of snow but it is melting.

And the mists rise from it, in the fields and between the trees

Weather

Forty seven degrees. Things are melting

Clock

Here is an old clock, about 1820's or so