Natural World

Poem 851 – Güle Güle Ölüdeniz

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A chittering call and in the Martin sweeps,
an elegant swerve beneath the open eaves,
curving with ease around the wooden trees
that hold our roof. It teases us, one sweeping
dive and then another, until it flits
from view and disappears. We hold our breath
hoping to see it reappear. We wait.
Finally we find it upon a rafter,
the nest in which it sits feeding its young.
We watch with joy, pointing it out to others
until it makes its move and leaves. We wave.
Soon after, we too disappear into
the world, swooping from our temporary
perch,
to fly across blue seas, returning home.

Every day we’ve watched Martins flying in and out of the restaurant, wandering where they went to. Today we finally found out just before we left.
(14.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 847 – Olüdeniz Lagoon

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Iridescent kingfisher blue lined with
a sandy olive, tints of turquoise flow
from gentle sea tide ripple. Shoals of silvery
fish, inquisitive and supple, dance
between our legs and toes, as silhouettes
repeat upon the shimmering bed below.
The air is warm, a tint of azure salt
upon the lip, dreamy seasoning
intruding into true. We dive on in.

Today we revisited the lagoon where we came a few years ago with the Alsatians that adopted us. A beautiful place.
(10.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 846 – Kayaköy Blooms

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Kayaköy, your bleached stones bloom before me.
Mourning your children snatched before their time,
your silent wailing groans throughout your homes,
echoes disturbing graves and gathered grime.

But even as these tears descend there’s hope:
chaffinches become redemption’s raucous choir
and nature’s tendrils reach around each stone,
their blooms compose a far more cheerful flower.

We hiked back to revisit Kayaköy having been there a few years back. A place of terrible atrocities which is gradually being taken over by an abundance of wildlife.
(09.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 845 – A Türkiye Sundae

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The tips of Turkish mountains rise above
the whipped cream clouds. Upon their ivory crests
the trees appear like sprinkled treats. I long
to taste their paths and tread their ancient streets.

What gain in winding around its many layers;
consuming but never making it to their end?
The unexpected view of nature’s gifts,
the joy of exercise and feeling spent.

The hills around Olüdeniz are calling. Planning a good walk in then at some point during the week we’re here on the old Lycian Way.
(08.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 844 – Soon After Take Off

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The wings extend, reaching for the horizon.
There the gentle earth curves from our sight,
whilst up above the hazy blue invites us
like freshly laundered duvets. We dive in.

Below the fields stretch out, a honeycomb
of every green from darkened moss to sun,
detailed by hedgerow lattices and throbbing
tarmac veins. Soon distant trees compress.

Lazily we rise and patterns change
blurring in their complexity and scope.
Individual fields combine. Gradually
we dissipate and all is reconciled.

Flying to Turkey on an unexpectedly sunny morning.
(07.04.26)

© Ben Quant 2026

Poem 831 – A Seasonal Sonnet

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Cherry blossom blooms, confetti showers,
dancing in tearful hope of dawning light:
rejoice in this annual ritual uniting flowers
of winter and spring in matrimony bright!
The promise of good times ahead now dark
days fade. The stretching daylight joyfully cheers
the heady bride and groom as they embark
into their life as hopeful pioneers.
But on the street the rumours start to grow
of infidelity, illicit heat.
As temperatures rise and passions flow, the oath
once tightly held becomes a forgotten conceit.
The underlying cause of this concern?
Our tendency to mine, exploit and burn.

I was struck this morning by the beautiful blossom that currently lines our streets and then later by a storm of hailstones.
(25.03.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by dadalan real on Unsplash

Poem 826 – For the Innocent of Iran

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The days are light and spring is here.
Winter now seems a distant coup
and so I was confused when you
proclaimed with joy, Happy New Year.

Nowruz Mobarak, ‘happy new day!’
On hearing playful birds’ fresh tunes
and admiring the new born blooms,
the penny dropped, it’s more sense this way.

And so I wish you hope this instant.
Whichever start you mark, I pray
that amongst the shelling you may stay
faithful, and find there hope persistent.

It’s the Iranian New Year today, or so I learnt from my new Iranian friend at our Conversation Cafe. My prayers are with his family and the ordinary people of Iran, those caught up in a war inflicted upon them by those in power.
(20.03.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Chris Linnett on Unsplash

Poem 825 – The Silver Birch

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The slender arm that reaches to the sky
remains naked, its undressed bark is bare
and pale, a sleeve of velvet moss alone
adorns it. This will not last as summer comes
and soon a parasol of gentle leaves
will bud to shade it from the dazzling blaze.

Enjoyed a brief walk after lunch, suddenly Spring is upon us.
(19.03.26)

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Danny De Vylder on Unsplash

Poem 817 – The Hobbies

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Two graceful ballerinas scything
through the muggy, post-storm air.
A dart of russet tights and arc
of speckled chest, they swoop in turn
through freckled clouds of flying insects,
delighting in the ease at dining.

We stand and for awhile that’s all,
this choreography and us,
until the air begins to clear.
Then they too dissipate, leaving
us earthbound, leaden, wondering if
we’ll ever see their like again.

© Ben Quant 2026
Photo by Andy Morffew licensed under the Creative Commons Attribution 2.0 Generic license

I started reading J.A. Baker’s The Peregrine today. It brought to mind the one and only time my wife and I saw two hobbies flying over the River Lee. An amazing sight.
(11.03.26)