At the foot of a tree which is part of an old pathway with intertwined oak trees whose branches hold each other up
I have a little collection of feathers from these walks – have to be careful tucking them in a pocket or holding them gently for the rest of the way
My Mum talked to me about finding feathers, about signs, symbols. About noticing and treasuring and thinking what they represent
Buzzard I reckon – it has photographed a bit darker than it is. I hear them most days before I look up and see them wheeling overhead.