4 July 2009
FINDING A TOAD IN A PILE OF OLD BROCCOLI
The first big burn up of this season. Woody broccoli stems laid waste to ash. Doing other jobs but keep returning. Feeding, tending. Revive the smoking bit to crackling life.
Discovered caterpillar tents and tenants in the nettle bed. Tipped the wink and left in peace. Ducked under laden boughs of Victoria. Stooping, returned to scratch the smoky dust.
Pea pods a-plumpening, globes shaking fist-sized buds in the hedge border, too many to eat.
And here he is. ‘My’ toad, maybe. In a hurry for cover with snails, where the up-rooted plants had been. A saggy old green-brown egg with legs, good reason for keeping it small and being careful.
Scooped up in my palm. Struggled then settled in the cupped-hands dark. Relocated to comfrey jungle adjacent. Then fed some freshly pulled fat hen to the fire, to make more smoke and keep dreams alive.
Copyright, Joe Hashman