I love the warmth of the Sun through the cold.
Bright light, and fresh air that is cool to breath.
First sign that harsh winter being dissolved.
What is Spring in reality, retrieved.

Can look up at the blueness of the sky.
That, one of the first of many, this year.
Hear birds in still trees sing their lullabies.
For them, the love and breeding season, near.

There is no disturbance or turbulence.
This, a chance to shrug-off anxiety.
Even the river, smooth, par excellence,
as though it’s its nature to flow gently.

My park walk, a recovery mission,
putting me in a de-stressed position.


I love the greenery and the colours.
Vegetation that is in profusion.
Spring, most, when from cold slumber recovers.
And flowers are a welcome inclusion.

Even low-lying, brightness of yellow
dandelions amongst the verdant grass,
and hedges and trees, will please this fellow.
Long may they last. I ‘shout’, “long may you last”.

There is the chance to bloom, this new season.
For new growth to supersede that that’s gone.
To display one’s colours, have permission
knowing in the world, at this time, belong.

A real joy this, not just imagining,
the green freshness, and colours, Spring now brings.


A reduction in ocean oxygen,
it’s thought caused first mass extermination
of early life, after its origin.
Too much poison gas, the complication.

Oxygen, a basic ingredient
which enables earth lifeforms to exist.
Taken-in from the air, convenient.
Circulated as the bloodstream permits.

Oxygen keeps alive. In fact, helps thrive.
Landlife, reverse of tree ‘breathing’, designed.
From such a source, our survival derive.
Less trees … unhealthy oceans … means decline.

There are warnings, the climate change effect
Includes less oxygen. Then, what expect?


Trees do not have to be of equal size.
In a line, can be higher or lower.
Each, their full growth, at this time, realise.
Over us modest-sized humans, tower.

These trees, I see, not all the one colour.
We’d say green, but many differences.
Variety of shades, one to other.
Leaves dressing sturdy ‘magnificence’s’.

Trees around here are a safe home for birds.
Hear multiple tweet sounds sung for dear life.
Insects, too. More than can put into words.
They’re there, even if don’t see with own eyes.

To observe so much there is, is to please.
And appreciate, not all the same, trees.


On the tea-towel are Palestinians.
Palestinian plants, that is, that’s shown.
Must be admired for their resilience.
In that environment, still are there grown.

Fennel, with Palestinian Sunbird,
first. The plant is an edible version.
Included in local salads, I’ve heard.
Apparently, relatively common.

Then Sea Quil. Scabrosa Palaestina.
It too, in the location, plentiful.
And distinct, in this mid-east arena,
Palestinian Comfrey. Milk Thistle.

Could have had more on this tea-towel of mine,
as a lot of plants grow in Palestine.


The smell of putrefaction in amongst
the sweeter scent of varied leaves growing.
Upon untamed earth, there’s this variance,
even if the things that dead, not showing.

Put it down to natural composting,
the decay of whatever’s decaying.
Small creature, insect, and plant-rot rotting.
What happens after, goes without saying.

At this stage, pungency still in the air.
But, in the open air to be dispersed.
Like from where it came from, will disappear.
In new living odours and air, immersed.

Whether or not to my satisfaction,
I can name that smell as putrefaction.


The air that I breathe, oxygenated.
Replenished by trees, post carbon-intake.
From oceans, too, large amounts created,
and blown to all places the winds will take.

There are other particles of gases.
Nitrogen by far the principal one.
And Carbon that’s from, and to, formed masses.
And that potent one from animals’ bum,

Methane. But more than that there is Argon.
No ill-effects from, whilst Oxygen there.
Water vapours which have Hydrogen on.
And dust particles. They’re everywhere.

Less than a quarter, but the gas of life,
Oxygen. One that lets me live my life.


The Moon emerging from out of a mist.
In a light blue, grey, sky. Last of the light.
It does well to show; does well to persist.
But, a hazy emaciated white.

I see it beyond, above the trees’ leaves,
and the top point of the house triangle.
Brightness tonight, I think be unachieved.
It is as though been squeezed through a mangle.

Late summer moon very late in the day;
In anything like summery weather.
Night will soon be closing-in, anyway;
then on home ground; in night-sky forever.

But other, most, nights will shine and will glow.
Not on this day, though. Misty moon on show.


All that water that soaks into the ground,
I would like to know, where does it end up?
After drenching, earth dries quite quick, I’ve found.
A day or two, and from mud, hard enough.

Some is subject to evaporation.
Groundwater and, I suspect, just below.
But that is not the whole explanation.
Some sinks deep, so question, ‘where does it go?’

To plants, of course, naturally watered,
and seeps to lakes, streams and wetland places.
In rock fractures. The rock may get altered.
Lodge in subsurface soil porous spaces.

Over time, influence ground faults and change.
I’m thinking, tectonic plates rearrange?


Water on the Moon. Water on the Moon.
That is, now, what we have come to assume.
Go deep in the right place and will exhume,
from beneath the dusty grey surface dunes.

Water on the Moon, in ice at the poles.
Crystals with hydrogen and oxygen.
Extraction for use, one of science goals.
Reconstitute so that pure, an option.

Water on the Moon within its cold traps.
Those the shadow places without sunlight.
Survive hostile environment, perhaps,
keeping atoms joined, and not split where bright.

A human base there probably quite soon,
If can get to the water on the moon.


The researchers saw a siphonophore.
Its huge length showed upon their radar screen,
In waters off Western Australia.
And then via their deep-sea robot, seen.

Swimming along two thousand feet below.
It was one hundred and fifty foot long
The longest creature alive, that we know.
If thought that was the blue whale, would be wrong.

That’s the most massive creature to have lived.
One hundred foot. But with its tentacles,
Lion’s Mane Jellyfish, twenty more with.
But the siphonophore’s incredible.

Cluster of cells self-clone thousands of times
to form string like, spiralling, body line.


Not crystal clear to me, melanism.
Pigment black on multiple animals.
For those, considered a rare condition.
Large dark spots or stripes cover nearly all.

The black tiger is one such example,
but apparent in various species.
Unexpected, could say remarkable,
that black, not colour that normally sees.

So not orange, melanistic tiger.
Melanism, I read, the opposite
of albino, but I’m not the wiser,
Told it not racial characteristic

in humans. Think perhaps, mildly it so
that blacks ‘melanistic’, whites ‘albino’.