Tim Holt-Wilson

13th July 2019 It was a good day for exploring the environmental history of the Broads.

At Candlemas-tide Ye gnarled one remembers: Rooted in soil grit fungal crittermush, Coaxing Aconitum and Galanthus Toxins in the bulb Out of Winter – rush bravely Shining faces white and yellow Into pale sky; Remembering How ponds will wax and wane And we…

Horns above me Tail ahin me Hooves beneath me Tripe within me Hail to the Hornèd Fáilte to the Fleet of Foot May fur fly Voice bell loud and strong Trapped in the rut Oh dear

At the ultimate point Where extinguishing flips A cold switch, chilling dip And the lights go out One by one – one by one: Each is a picture, each an image Of people, person, place; The furnishing awareness Dusted with half-remembering, Dissolves into peo…

Text of a Presidential Address (2023) delivered to the Norfolk & Norwich Naturalists’ Society at Norwich, 26-3-2024 Thank you – firstly – for doing me the honour of asking me to be your President for 2023.

Sweet diatoms You make me smile Algal atoms Too small to see But for my eye Peering microscopically Your fiddly frames Of filigree silica Seem big to me

“This lost country composers do not actually remember, but each of them remains all his life somehow attuned to it; he is wild with joy when he is singing the airs of his native land, betrays it at times in his thirst for fame, but then, in seeking fame,…

Midsummer midnight, Warm, thick, still, With blizzard of insects lamping.

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If ever there were dragons they left their passion here in garnet schist and granite, crazy migmatite of marbled black and white: hot scramblings of the pluton.