Nighttime on Still Waters
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noswpod.bsky.social
Nighttime on Still Waters
@noswpod.bsky.social
2.1K followers 2.2K following 960 posts
Hello, I am Richard. I live on the narrowboat Erica, seeking to create something beautiful in a conflicted & fragmented world.
Advocate of hedge-wisdom.

#naturewriting #canals #wonder #podcast #rain #night #rooks #myth #stormydays
https://www.noswpod.com/
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noswpod.bsky.social
In our remembering, we must REMEMBER.
November 11, 2025 at 10:56 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Golden leaves that sheltered me during the summer heat now rest upon the same still waters that carry me.
Hawthorn leaves stream upon slow wind eddies that I am unable to feel.
A squirrel looks down at Maggie.
My boots slide on mud.
Towpath tales.

#ukcanals #naturewriting #DailyNature
A gloriously golden coloured ball tree blazes in the light of a low western sun. Rafts of leaves lie on the mirrored waters that reflect the blue sky. A muddy towpath follows the line of the canal to the left. Maggie (black and white dog) sniffs the narrow grass that lies between towpath and canal.
November 9, 2025 at 9:46 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
... and then there is this. Low among the scrubby grass and mud on the backside of Horse Hill, watched over by jackdaw chatter and the arc of kite.
Thin drizzle and this.
As close to prayer as you can get.
Thin drizzle...
... and this.

#naturewriting #plants #poetry
Tightly packed fists of pink petals. From far away, they look whiter, with just a hint of reddish wash. The closer you get, the pinker they appear. They have a name (a common name), but, right now, they are too beautiful, too profound, to be reduced to a name.
November 5, 2025 at 8:44 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Late sunshine. Boots scuffling through a fresh carpet of leaves. A busyness of ducks. The sound of a boat tying up for the night. November.

#autumnlight #autumncolours #ukcanals
A westering sun, heavy with gold, paints the eastern bank of the canals with rich honeyed ambers. A group of ducks swim and circle in the middle of the canal, their wakes shining silver. In the distance, the white painted ironwork of a footbridge crosses the water. .
November 1, 2025 at 4:27 PM
noswpod.bsky.social
Canal-side #plants

Hogweed

"Sticks and stones!"
Says the common hogweed,
"Look at me!
Your names for me
Cannot diminish the intricacies
Or wonders of my being.
I lift my petals
To the touch of insect wings
And coming winter.
Only you, blinded by names,
Will walk past, unseeing."

#ukcanals #nature
Delicate creamy white starfields of petals, flushed pink, against the rich greens of new growth leaves. The season may be well over along the canal-side, but the flowers still shoot and grow. The wintering insects are grateful.
October 29, 2025 at 8:27 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
What really did happen at Morton's Rise lock?
Be sure to tune into our special Halloween episode of Nighttime on Still Waters coming this Friday.

(Annual bout of 'fresher's flu' has delayed today's episode 🤧😪).

#ukcanals #folklore #Halloween
October 26, 2025 at 9:17 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
All it takes to transform
Brick, concrete, and metal
Into a place of wonder
Is just one tree.

#naturewriting #naturepoetry #trees
Morning sun breaks through a sky of bruised clouds. Light shines gold through the leaves of a tree flaming proudly among a chaos of metal railings and fences and brickwork.
October 21, 2025 at 7:10 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Young sheep caught in mud.
Waiting while magpies gather.
Lifted by strong arms.

#haiku #poetry #sheep #countryside
Young sheep trapped by deep mud (some cows had broken down the fence). Another sheep, also trapped, managed to scramble out by the time I had reached them. This little one had given up struggling. Others in the flock keep a distant vigil - their concern is what attracted my attention. Magpies and rooks are beginning to circle, so I wait alongside to keep them away as I wait for the farmer to come. We do not now have to wait long. He soon comes. Two strong arms lifts the exhausted little soul to safety.
October 19, 2025 at 8:43 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
"I’m not Buddhist or Taoist
not a Confucianist either
I’m a brownfaced white-haired
hard up old man.
people think I just prowl
the streets peddling tea,
I’ve got the whole universe
in this tea caddy of mine."

Baisao (The Old Tea Seller)

#poetry #zen

Image: "Baisao on Footbridge”
by Ito Jakuchu
"Baisao on Footbridge” by Ito Jakuchu. Baisao turned his back on life as a Zen monk at 60 and, in poverty, wandered the streets of 18th century Kyoto. He survived by making tea from a canteen carried in a wooden box on a pole. He favoured the most beautiful spots for his temporary teashops. He invited all to join him and pay him whatever they could afford. If they couldn't afford anything, he gave the tea freely. Although physically gruelling, these seemed to be his happiest and most fulfilling years. He was well loved and respected. All his long years of religious training were manifested in this wonderful 'ministry'.
October 17, 2025 at 8:39 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Canal-side plants

Mallow (pink)

Amid the smouldering
Autumnal blaze
Pink mallow peeps out
And seems to say
"There are still days enough
For me to add
Spring and summer flame
To the towpath's fire of praise."

"And the bush was not consumed by the fire."

#nature #poetry #ukcanals #plants
The cerise pink blush of mallow's trumpet flowers peeping through a tangle of grasses just below bridge 65.
October 11, 2025 at 7:37 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
As morning dawned,
I stood beneath the silver birch
And looked up into the its canopy
And said
"My soul is dry
And there is nothing left."
The silver birch
Looked down
And said
"Do not worry
Today, I have enough
Soul for two.
Today, let me be your soul."

#poetry #nature
Morning light shivers through the shimmer of silver birch leaves that blend from deep forest green to light lemon yellows.
October 7, 2025 at 6:53 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
The waxing moon is nearly at its full, so a great time to enjoy a mug of warming Waxing Moon tea. Lovely chatting to its creator @maid_miri at the #BanburyCanalFestival today. So pleased it could go ahead despite the closures and stoppages.
The next podcast episode will be next weekend.
#ukcanals
White mug with infuser/strainer standing on the counter next to a sachet titled Rootlet Rituals. The boat cabin smells warm with ginger and herbs.
October 5, 2025 at 5:31 PM
noswpod.bsky.social
Coming upon 2 swans
Midway through their morning ablutions.
The cob glides over to me,
On edge, half-busk stance.
What a shame to break
Such a precious moment.

Turning my back, I walk away
And revel in the soft
Reassuring snorts
Of their contact calls.
Their world, once more restored.

#nature
Two swans mirrored in the ripples of morning water. Autumn colours shimmer at the sides. The swan closest now has his back to us and has adopted a semi busk stance (defence/aggression). I have moved away and he seems to be signalling the threat is going. His mate, also now mirroring his stance, swims over. They will briefly rub their faces and necks together while emitting soft shortlist and chucking sounds. As we move further away, the wings drop into relaxed position. The male scratches his head, they swim together back into centre stream.
October 5, 2025 at 8:00 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Saddened to hear of the death of Jane Goodall.
Thank you, Jane, for your courage, resilience, compassion, and wisdom.
We have desperately needed your voice & it will be missed. However, your inspiration ensures that many will continue your path. Your work is done. Rest well. Thank you.

#janegoodall
Image of Jane Goodall's book 'In the Shadow of Man'. I first read it in my early teens. It left an indelible mark on me. Only now am I beginning to see how courageous and radical it was. Jane has been a constant inspiration for wisdom and action to me ever since.
October 2, 2025 at 6:47 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
First frost of autumn
Mist plays across the water
It came without sound.

#naturewriting #ukcanals #autumn #poetry #haiku
September 22, 2025 at 7:35 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
But even after all these years
Still rocking those jumpers
And hair still awry.
Black and white photograph of me, having a picnic, many years ago. I seem to remember that it could have been at an airshow. I am squatting with a bun or a cake pressed to my mouth as if just about to take a bite from it. I am wearing a woollen jumper (undoubtedly knitted by Mum, who was a prolific knitter). My eyes are fixed on something a little to the left. I do not seem to conscious of the camera.
September 16, 2025 at 12:56 PM
noswpod.bsky.social
On finding myself
In a lost photograph album
I gaze into the face of the one
Who has become me
The father of the older man
And one who seems to
Navigate his world
With surer footsteps than I.

#poetry #past #memory
Sunny summer me. A photograph of the young me, in striped short sleece shirt and shorts, kneeling frogwise on a lawn. It is sunny and I am smiling straight into the camera with a gap-toothed smile. Unselfconscious. Pudding bowl haircut and all ears. I appear to have a plucked grass blade in my left hand (a habit I still find myself doing). behind is a chain-linked fence and the screen of a hazel hurdle. A woman wearing sunglasses lies on a lilo behind, also looking into the camera.
September 16, 2025 at 12:44 PM
noswpod.bsky.social
Cruising along the intersections
Border lands between worlds
Between experiences.
A landscape of tensions
And, at times, unease.
Often unpretty, unpredictable,
But here too are sparrows,
The wheel of a gull,
Sunshine and the glint of rain.

#ukcanals #poetry
A black and white photograph looking down Kingswood arm. The NB Erica is tied up under a railway bridge which a train is crossing. The train is blurred with speed. The sound concussive. Once it has gone, birdsong can be once again heard
September 14, 2025 at 9:03 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Canal-side plants

Black bryony (aka lady's seal)

Black bryony's
Rope-like braid
Festoons the misty sloe
With a scarlet brocade
Of autumnal fire.

#DailyNature #plants #ukcanals #nature #autumn #poetry
Thick clusters of scarlet berries strung on braided stems wraps itself around the prickly vine of hawthorn. Its berries are a mist of deep purple.
September 10, 2025 at 7:23 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Canal-side plants

Elder

Tiny globes of midnight blue
Hang suspended
Where, once,
Lacy parasols
Glowed creamy-white
In the summer-scented sun.

#DailyNature #plants #ukcanals #poetry #nature
A warm September morning alongside the canal. A cluster of elderberries, deep indigo blue and as spherical as mouse eyes, hang on scarlet stems above the mirror calm water. Green elder leaves, slightly out of focus, hang in the foreground.
September 8, 2025 at 6:14 PM
noswpod.bsky.social
Ghosts of late summer
Haunt the canal-side towpath
Red willowherb smoke.

#DailyNature #naturewriting #haiku #ukcanals #plants #nature #poetry
Hairy willowherb. It's cerise pink flowers beginning to droop under the weight of summer. The stem and long stick insect like seed pods are covered in feather white downy fluff. It catches the wind and smoulders grey along the bankside.
August 28, 2025 at 7:40 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
Swallows swirl
In late summer blue.
Families forage
Blackberries along the towpath.
A hire boat idles
With nowhere to go.
I stand on the hill
With the horses
We look to the west
With its mountain air
And Atlantic bite.

#DailyNature #naturewriting #drought #ukcanals #summer #poetry
Dry, warm morning. Standing on the canal towpath and looking straight up into a cloudless sky of almost Wedgwood blue. Scarlet and crimson hawthorn berries blaze among its emerald leaves. A perfect colour pallette.
August 26, 2025 at 3:12 PM
noswpod.bsky.social
'Oh what memories and joys await you, little one.'

J.H. Dowd
A watercoloured pencil drawing of a small child in old fashioned bathing costume, on all fours, making her/his way into through the wavelets into the sea. A picture of courage and wonder.
August 25, 2025 at 8:32 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
J.H Dowd's pencil drawing of a 1950s family on the beach. Dad is earnestly digging a large hole and sandcastle while the children gather around spellbound. Mother? is sitting in a deck chair, smiling, and watching, shielding the sun from her eyes with her hand.
August 25, 2025 at 8:26 AM
noswpod.bsky.social
JH Dowd's pencil drawing of children playing with small waves running up the beach.
August 25, 2025 at 8:22 AM