Anthology From the Field., No.2: Snow

Some poems about snow, news about an essay on localism, and a call for poems from readers

Photo by Fabrice Villard on Unsplash

Dear Readers,

Welcome to the second Anthology From the Field.

Before we get to the poetry, I realise a number of recent subscribers have come to me through the recommendation feature linked to Paul Kingsnorth. If you are one of them, you may be wondering how this email has ended up in your inbox and what this is all about — so let me introduce what I am trying to do here at Over the Field.

I am an agrarian writer from the south of England who examines themes such as the goodness of limitations, the flaws of industrial/machine agriculture, and the importance of small farms. I occasionally delve into other topics such as the importance of community, the issues with transhumanism and AI, and wider topics concerning nature conservation and the care of creation. My chief influences are Wendell Berry, James Rebanks, and

Paul Kingsnorth

who has very kindly recommended my work to his readers.

If you decide to continue to subscribe to my work, you can expect in the new year an essay from me tackling the perennial question I often hear — that Paul Kingsnorth’s and Wendell Berry’s vision of the good life sounds good on paper but can never work in the real world. I will argue against this view by showing that ‘getting the scale right’ i.e. reading Berry, Kingsnorth, and others like them thorough a localism/small-scale lens, is crucial to understanding how their thought can be applied in the real world — and that operating at this scale is the most effective way of instigating sustainable and long-lasting change (indeed I increasingly believe that it is the only way of instigating effective change).

In addition to regular essays and poetry pieces, I run a Wendell Berry Reading Group on Zoom for paid subscribers, and an email about January’s session will be entering my paid subscribers inbox in the next few days. If you would like to join this group here is a link.

Now on to some poetry.

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A snow-morning walk

I awake, at the crack of dawn -
to venture out into the silence. 
A fresh and pure blanket greets me - 
concealing every trace of colour.
I tread softly, but with purpose,
leaving my mark behind on the purity -
for someone else to follow.

As I traipse carefully through the glade,
I see that the night - though appearance is deceptive - 
has been far from silent.
I stumble upon the ghosts of a fox and a rabbit -
a drama of life and death delicately impressed
on the pure white canvas.
I wonder if that same rabbit is watching me now,
safe under the gnarled tangle of the bramble -
or if the fox, deep in its den -
is nourishing itself on the warmth 
of another. 

I press on, for it is picking up again - 
erasing my history along with the story I have just read. 
Stronger and stronger, till I can hardly see the trees 
nor the wood,
and for a moment I am lost amongst 
the familiar - 
though painted in a foreign tone. 
 
Hadden Turner
Chelmsford, Essex 2023

The avalanche

Who could have imagined that something 
so soft could become so hard, something 
so gentle could become so violent, 
something so quiet could become 
so deafening, something so 
beautiful could become 
so deadly.

But those who doubt that 
this could indeed be so,
are those who will never see 
the approaching 
           
             avalanche.
 
Hadden Turner
Chelmsford, Essex 2023

Readers poems

A new feature to these anthologies is this section — which is devoted to my readers poems. In each anthology from now on, I shall be releasing the topic for the next anthology along with a call to my readers for poetry submissions on this theme. I will select one or two of the best poems that I receive and will feature them in the corresponding anthology along with a link to their authors work.

If you would like to have a chance of featuring in the next anthology, please submit up to three poems on the theme of ‘old towns’ to haddenturner@protonmail.com by the end of January.

I am looking for poems that bring to life old cities/towns/villages, their features, and/or their traditions. Poems could be about old festivals, ancient city walls, beautiful old houses, cobbled streets, US ghost towns or anything else that your creative minds can think of. When you submit, please enclose a short biography which can include a link to your further work/writing and make sure this includes your name and (if willing) your location so that I can properly acknowledge your poems. Poems will need to be original, free from AI, and previously unpublished and I won’t be providing feedback via email on poems that are not selected for publication.

Now let’s turn to the two poems that were my favourites for this theme.

Selected reader poems on the theme of snow

Expressions of Snow

Feathery dancers
Light footed, clad in white tulle

Angry bees who
Sting the cheek with all their might

Small flecks of ice
That melt when they touch the ground

Wet, gray, cold stuff
More rain than snow pouring down

I know a lot of people
Who are like a type of snow

Mary. G. Lane (age 12)
Fort Royal, Virginia 2023

I loved this poem by Mary! I have read a poem by her before and have been struck by her masterful use of ‘blunt turn of phrase’ which has a highly dry humour effect (this kind of humour appeals greatly to me as an English man). This poem is another in that class. I am sure we can all think of many people who are like the types of snow expressed in this brilliant little poem and I expect that there is a great poetic future ahead for this superb young poet.

Many thanks to

Dixie Dillon Lane

for submitting this poem on behalf of her daughter. Dixie helps to edit the journal Hearth and Field, who have just announced that they will be going to be publishing print editions in the new year.

Snow / hope

I want to write a poem about snow
But where snow should be, only loss —
where glacier’s icy trace, rock —
where floating raft of white, blue.

I want to write a poem about snow,
But where winter peace should be, only war —
where celebration, dust and blood —
where laughter, grief.

I can’t write a poem about snow —
it will not settle in thought or in words,
despair has taken its place;
the grace of the world faded like ice caps and innocents.

But snow does fall,
children do play,
people do love, and love, and so
I am not wholly given over to despair.

I will write a poem about snow:
its beauty, its quiet persistence.
And when, at the end, I need a poem about hope too,
I will see it reads the same.

Elizabeth Wainwright
2023

This is a beautiful poem from someone who always writes beautiful words:

Elizabeth Wainwright

. I appreciate the tensions Elizabeth explores here about writing on a theme so beautiful at a time when the world feels so dark. But it is in beauty that we can find hope. Elizabeth writes at Redlands, and I heartily encourage you to check her writing out.