Birds - the feathered variety

>>  Saturday, June 16, 2012

Because I've had to slow down again, I've had time:

I've 'known' a buzzard for a while.  He sits in a tree I walk past a lot, he watches me.  
But I've taken the time to stand and watch him.  He floats high above the wood, drawing great circles in the air.  He swoops and soars over the arable and then heads off high up the hill. 

Whilst watching the graceful bird soaring off, I realised I'd got a pair of yellow wagtails sat within arms reach on the wire fence.  Bold as brass.

And as I walked up past the old slate capped mud wall, 100s of years old, there was a housemartin sat staring at me.  They make me laugh, always so graceful in flight and dumpy no necked things when perched.

As I was walking down the canal, I heard a cat in distress.  I tried to place where it was  and realised it was the buzzard shouting about something from the other bank. 

I remember once running with a robin, now I walk with groups of sparrows, noisy packs of squabbling, flitting, puffs of brown.

I don't know whether it's because I have a particularly light foot or whether it's just because I am alone but wildlife just doesn't seem phased by my passing by.  The baby bunnies are silly little things that hop within metres of me and the birds just seem to stare at me and flit across my path.  The muntjac deer are still hopping high in and out of the rape seed.  Of course, they won't sit still for the camera and knowing my demographics I suspect any attempt to lift my jacket would be for the pocket contents but at least it's entertaining.

What is this life if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.

No time to stand beneath the boughs
And stare as long as sheep or cows.

No time to see, when woods we pass,
Where squirrels hide their nuts in grass.

No time to see, in broad daylight,
Streams full of stars, like skies at night.

No time to turn at Beauty's glance,
And watch her feet, how they can dance.

No time to wait till her mouth can
Enrich that smile her eyes began.

A poor life this is if, full of care,
We have no time to stand and stare.      


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