Birds and things ...

Wednesday 8 November

It is a cold day again only 3 degrees celsius but it was so bright and sunny, perfect for my morning walk.

Birds in my garden were feeding happily all through to day. The robin family were busy guarding their territory. They were stationed all around the garden and were quite successful in chasing blue tits over the back wall but failed with the starlings and bigger birds.
There was a little sparrow munching on nuts earlier. His name is Alan. He is from Ivy Terrace over by the Football Club. He comes from a large family so they need all the food they can get. He will send his siblings over for dinner before dusk tonight.

Alan

Christmas Cross Stitch Tree, birds, reindeer, ribbon and card

Christmas Tree wiht birds, Reindeer and Ribbon.

May gardening haiku

may gardening
starlings circle a blackbird
with a worm


may gardens
silver birch weeps the lake
lilies catch her tears

(Altamont)


may breeze
foxgloves freckled lips quiver
whistling a tune


herb garden
parsley passing thyme
In the sunshine


may noon
choir of campanula bells
buzz with bees

may gardening
starlings circle a blackbird
with a worm


may breeze
purple lupins point
dancing towards the sea


cloudless day
love in a mist
mirrors the sky


trees swish and sway
each leaf a different sound
breezy symphony


may afternoon
bees gather nectar
in honey sunshine


gardening break
in my mug of tea
the sun


grass cuttings
a swarm of bees nesting
in the compost bin


may sunshine
foxgloves freckled lips quiver
whistling the breeze

garden weeding
the scent of fennel still
on my hands


hedge clippings
in the wheelbarrow
autumn mixed with spring

A melting morning

After the snow
birds swim the sky
wings outstretched, exuberant
warmed by a light drizzle
falling on pear coloured fields
they drink in a saturated land


Gliding from cedar to spruce
great canopies of army green,
gulls alight from a satin sky
to branches covered in lichen
where pistachio ivy clings


Sweeping over a shrouded sea,
liquorice crows blotch the horizon.
Blackbirds gather
on the arching limbs
of my silver birch tree,
rejoicing
in a melting morning