Howling

They howl in the night
when no animal stirs,

they howl in the darkness
where all sounds blur.

They hunt down the weak,
the small and the defenceless,

with such ferocity
to bend a victim's senses.

Eyes electrified at night,
ghostly forms in the trees,

the bravest of beasts
all fall to their knees.

The woods they haunt
are in their autumn throes,

and their presence besets
all manner of woes,

they clad the forest
in a cloak of screams,

then slip away silently
never again to be seen.

Songs of the Lemurs

Singing floods the forests, melts the dawn frost,
the Indri's serenade to the treetops,
songs from the days of a sanctuary lost.

The fossas still lurk, dangerous beasts to cross,
though as bipeds invade their hunting grounds,
singing floods the forests, melts the dawn frost.

Sifakas leap spaces too wide to cross,
fleeing the hands which reach out to strangle
songs from the days of a sanctuary lost.

Troops of ring-tails flee from progress's cost,
away from the songs of hungry chainsaws,
singing floods the forests, melts the dawn frost.

The mouse lemurs shelter amongst the moss,
ears tuned to the last notes of old harmonies,
songs from the days of a sanctuary lost.

At last the lemurs huddle in a glade,
homes torn asunder, new symphonies in the air.
Singing floods the forests, melts the dawn frost,
songs from the days of a sanctuary lost.

Frynwys Features #3: Return of the Goldfish

It's that time again. A lot has happened in Frynwys since the last installment, although in Frynwys terms "a lot" is often what other towns and cities would call "nothing much". This time around there is more news from across the village; at the ponds, on the roads, in the fields and not too far beyond.

The first thing of note is the sudden increase in the number of people repairing fences in the area. This in itself isn't uncommon; homes need maintenance all the time and so to hear someone repairing a bit of woodwork in their garden isn't a strange occurrence. However it's become such a regular occurrence that I'm beginning to wonder if there's a club somewhere encouraging it. Is there a local group which organises Sunday afternoon meetings in someone's front room, filled with china-laden cupboards and linen-clothed tables? This isn't so much a news item as it a personal grievance, but if I hear another hammer hitting the back of a fence or a shed, I might have to start investigating this phenomenon further.

In other news of the slightly less infuriating variety, it appears that someone did not take the nature warden's warning about releasing fish into the pond seriously. Somebody in the village recently noticed up to thirty enormous goldfish swimming around in it, big enough to qualify as small koi carp. The last time this happened the local wildlife which inhabit the pond took a major blow, especially the frogs which use the pond to nurture their frogspawn. That was just a few small fish. After about a week it seems that these fish are not only thriving in the pond, but multiplying. I don't know if the wardens have spotted them yet, but I've spoken to a few people who live near the pond and they certainly have. What sort of measures the wardens will put in place this time remains to be seen, but if they put up another sign I suspect they might need to rethink their deterrence strategy.

With regards to the local animal population, a few new dogs have been spotted in the area. Not strays but dogs with owners attached, and in particular a black pug has caught my attention. He appears to be less than a year old, and is quite hyperactive from what I've seen of him. He runs around the fields to the south of the village in search of other friendly dogs. Most of the other dogs take little notice of him, but if he meets another puppy then an impromptu greyhound race will certainly take place. He's only run up to me once, and I haven't seen much of him since, but hopefully I'll catch sight of him again in the near future.

And last but by no means least, it appears that a few ravens are making their home in the nearby forests. It's not often that you see a raven (at least as I've found), and they're fairly distinctive compared to jackdaws and crows, not by any subtle difference in their plumage, but in their size. They are as big as seagulls, and seeing them foraging in the fields next to smaller birds really highlights this. Also the characteristic rattling call they make is now becoming a semi-regular feature in the skies above Frynwys. Why I never noticed them before is slightly baffling, but alongside the resident jays, crows, jackdaws, magpies and other birds, they make a nice addition to the local ecosystem.

That's all for this installment of Frynwys Features, with my home village more than living up to its reputation. Hopefully by next time something more interesting will have happened, but until then the wait continues.