Tree Creepers

This last weekend we camped over in Rainbow Wood with a couple of friends, Jen and Chris. We had a really wonderful time basking in the warmth of one of those rare balmy summer's evenings. As the sun set we marvelled at the crows returning to their favourite trees to roost, wheeling and calling until the last few arrived and settled.

Unfortunately, sometime in the early hours (it was still dark) an intruder alarm was set off in the far distance. It was loud enough though to keep me awake for an hour or two until it fell quiet. As compensation, the dawn chorus started at first light, gathering momentum and rising to a crescendo as the Sun rose.

At breakfast, cooked over an open fire, we sat and watched a tree creeper going about its business looking for insects whilst performing acrobatics on the trunk of an ash tree.

And Jack the Dog came, too...

Wood Burning Poem

There hasn't been much activity in Rainbow Wood since my last post; we have just enjoyed being there. Tonight (Sunday) we are having friends over for a BBQ and social. We wanted to camp, but the weather has not been too kind this week and made it quite muddy underfoot.

While browsing someone elses blog this afternoon I came across this poem about burning logs. I rather like it, though I have seen something similar before.

Logs to burn! Logs to burn!
Logs to save the coal a turn!
Here’s a word to make you wise
When you hear the woodsman’s cries.

Beech wood fires burn bright and clear,
Hornbeam blazes too’
If the logs are kept a year
To season through and through.

Oak logs will warm you well
If they are old and dry.
Larch logs of the pine smell
But the sparks will fly.

Pine is good and so is Yew
For warmth through winter days,
But poplar and the willow too
Take long to dry or blaze.

Birch logs will burn too fast,
Alder scarce at all,
Chestnut logs are good to last
If cut in the fall

Holly logs will burn like wax –
You should burn them green.
Elm logs like a smouldering flax,
No flames to be seen.

Pear logs and apple logs
They will scent a room,
Cherry logs across the dogs
Smell like flowers in bloom.

But Ash logs all smooth and grey,
Burn them green or old,
Buy up all that come your way
They’re worth their weight in Gold!

Anon