(20” x 20” Mixed Media Painting on Watercolor Paper- Framed. ready to hang.)
Where are they supposed to go, the fox, the badger, the hare, the doe?
Where are they to lay their heads, on treeless wastelands or concrete beds?
How are they to protect their young, from man, machine, poison, gun?
There’s nowhere safe, no wild expanse, to run free, unguarded. To play. To dance.
Polluted rivers, dwindling food, homelands devoid of nature’s fruit.
Their wetlands drained, heathland lost, hedgerows cleared, woodlands chopped.
Drays, dens, setts torn away, lairs buried beneath urban decay.
Cars, trains, lorries roaring past, they can’t bridge fragmented habitats.
Where are they to reproduce, with light disturbance at the roost?
Night has become a second day, no cover of darkness for dusk’s prey.
How can they teach their young to live, on shrinking islands cast adrift?
How to hunt, hide, when to migrate, survival skills, where to find a mate?
Forced to live on the very edge, to forage amidst our toxic waste.
Their Eden now occupied abyss, a glimpse into our own apocalypse.
—Carly Dugmore
(20” x 20” Mixed Media Painting on Watercolor Paper- Framed. ready to hang.)
Where are they supposed to go, the fox, the badger, the hare, the doe?
Where are they to lay their heads, on treeless wastelands or concrete beds?
How are they to protect their young, from man, machine, poison, gun?
There’s nowhere safe, no wild expanse, to run free, unguarded. To play. To dance.
Polluted rivers, dwindling food, homelands devoid of nature’s fruit.
Their wetlands drained, heathland lost, hedgerows cleared, woodlands chopped.
Drays, dens, setts torn away, lairs buried beneath urban decay.
Cars, trains, lorries roaring past, they can’t bridge fragmented habitats.
Where are they to reproduce, with light disturbance at the roost?
Night has become a second day, no cover of darkness for dusk’s prey.
How can they teach their young to live, on shrinking islands cast adrift?
How to hunt, hide, when to migrate, survival skills, where to find a mate?
Forced to live on the very edge, to forage amidst our toxic waste.
Their Eden now occupied abyss, a glimpse into our own apocalypse.
—Carly Dugmore
