Monday, 16 August 2010


not at kinson
at the t-junction
of the front garden, our drive and the pavement
there stands a small mountain ash
twenty feet tall
its branches shading an area about four yards in diameter
shielding the house from north-westerlies
shading the kitchen window from low-angled evening sunlight
its pale grey bark is smooth to the touch
it has been chopped around a little
but its foliage hides a multitude of sins
in may it blossoms
small white cauliflower-like bunches
now these pretty white bunches have metamorphosed into juicy red berries
which attract eagerly pecking blackbirds and thrushes
and clumsy over-sized wood pigeons
who bend the slimmer branches under their weight
if you want to identify a rowan
the small pinnate leaf fingers are a dead give-away
very similar to an ash
but without the black buds or dangling keys
it's the first thing i see when i turn the corner from the park
standing polite sentry over our garden forecourt

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