The Peregrine: The Hill of Summer & Diaries: The Complete Works of J. A. Baker
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Mark Cocker. The Peregrine: The Hill of Summer & Diaries: The Complete Works of J. A. Baker
The Peregrine
J. A Baker
Copyright
Contents
Introduction by Mark Cocker
Notes on J. A. Baker by John Fanshawe
BEGINNINGS
PEREGRINES
THE HUNTING LIFE
THE HILL OF SUMMER
APRIL: WOODS AND FIELDS
MAY: A STORM
MAY: THE PINE WOOD
MAY: A JOURNEY
MAY: DOWNLAND
JUNE: BEECH WOOD
JUNE: THE SEA AND THE MOOR
JUNE: MIDSUMMER
JULY: A RIVER
JULY: THE HEATH
AUGUST: ESTUARY
SEPTEMBER: THE HILL
Introduction by John Fanshawe
1954
Acknowledgements
About the Publisher
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The Hill of Summer & Diaries
The Complete Work of
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A magpie chattered in an elm near the river, watching the sky. Blackbirds scolded; the magpie dived into a bush as the tiercel peregrine flew over. Suddenly the dim day flared. He flashed across clouds like a transient beam of sunlight. Then greyness faded in behind, and he was gone. All morning, birds were huddled together in fear of the hawk, but I could not find him again. If I too were afraid I am sure I should see him more often. Fear releases power. Man might be more tolerable, less fractious and smug, if he had more to fear. I do not mean fear of the intangible, the suffocation of the introvert, but physical fear, cold sweating fear for one’s life, fear of the unseen menacing beast, imminent, bristly, tusked and terrible, ravening for one’s own hot saline blood.
Halfway to the coast, lapwings went up as a hawk flew above them. They kept in small flocks, and soon there were ten flocks in the air together, scattered across a mile of sky. Those that had been up longest flew higher and wider apart, drifting downwind in tremendous circles half a mile across. The most recently flushed stayed lower, wheeling faster and in narrower circles, closely packed, with only small chinks of light between them. When hawks have gone from sight, you must look up into the sky; their reflection rises in the birds that fear them. There is so much more sky than land.
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