Author Archives: James Rogerson

There has been a rush of colour in the garden outside the cottage: it’s as if I can almost sense the urgency of the flowers as they unfurl themselves in the sun. There is a spray of forget-me-nots along the border. And in just the last few days the irises have appeared near the frontContinue reading “Curry Rivel May 16th.”

A sudden return to Winter today. Rain all morning and the cottage gloomy within. Strips of water can be seen down on the moors and I’m never without my woolly hat and snood. In the early afternoon lashing winds arrive that whip the trees and telephone wires along the road sending the rooks up intoContinue reading “Curry Rivel March 21st”

Today at last there is a hint of Spring. The wind is up. It still has its chill but the sun is warm. Clouds are everywhere: great hulks, thin streaks and little puffs like that look like they’ve appeared from a cartoon steam engine stream across the sky. They all come and then go inContinue reading “Curry Rivel March 14th”

The rooks are raucous today in the trees opposite the farm. I can hear their constant squawking all the way up the path past the tennis court and to the top field. The hawthorn trees along Holden’s Way are suddenly snowy now with their little star shaped flowers. Their petals dot the path like confetti.Continue reading “Curry Rivel March 14th”

It’s below freezing once again outside the cottage. I had an extra blanket, a hot water bottle and socks on in bed last night. The heads of the hydrangea outside the front door are brown and sagging while underneath them the heads of snowdrops bow in unison offering some hope of new life amongst theContinue reading “Curry Rivel February 7th”

As I arrive at the bridge over the River Parrett at Muchelney the near world transforms. The sky and abundant water are granite grey while lines of greens and oranges of the grass and plants are thrown into vivid detail and shocking brightness by the sudden emergence of the sun. The colours are saturated; theyContinue reading “The Slow Walker – Muchelney January 7th”

Minus temperatures outside and the finest dusting of snow in the garden, on the walls and my newly made log pile. When I look at the sky it reminds me of Ronnie Blythe’s line ‘the clouds are full of it.’ It’s got that dirty grey colour to it while the sun is a pale presenceContinue reading “Curry Rivel December 13th”

It’s cold but clear. The pale face of the moon is up already in the blue sky in the east looking a bit aghast at how early it is for him. It’s quarter to four. The air is cold on my hands and legs. The owl and the pussycat barn is only a hundred metresContinue reading “Curry Rivel December 6th”

There is a freezing fog this morning that cloaks everything and doesn’t shift the entire day. It brings a dreamlike quality to the world – nothing is quite as it seems. Straight lines of gossamer connect the saddle stone outside my front door to the bin – they look like silver tightropes. The air isContinue reading “Curry Rivel November 29th”