Every morning for the last week, a song thrush has sung heroically from our cherry tree for a good half-hour shortly before dawn. He’s no doubt putting in some practice for the coming spring. Not that spring felt particularly imminent before dawn this morning, as the latest winter storm battered Hebden Bridge and the whole of north west Europe. But still the song thrush sang on, to the accompaniment of flood sirens down in the valley: a strange duet, mixing hope and foreboding.
The upper Calder Valley has flooded badly yet again, with more heavy rain and sleet forecast for the next few days. Those poor, poor people. It must be devastating.
“…wonderfully droll, witty and entertaining… At their best Carter’s moorland walks and his meandering intellectual talk are part of a single, deeply coherent enterprise: a restless inquiry into the meaning of place and the nature of self.”
—Mark Cocker, author and naturalist
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