3 geese
(Images of) tumbling clowns
fly through my head
On the reservoir walk this morning three geese flew overhead, honking all the way. I wondered where the rest of the flock was. Every time I hear geese I think of clowns in big baggy trousers at the circus with their honking horns.
Today is neither sunny nor frosty. The good run has broken but it is warmer and the birds’ water does not need defrosting.
There is much tweeting and cooing and other sounds of the sky. Doves, woodpigeons, blackbirds are busy flying or resting.
The dampness of the aftermath of frozen times makes the garden seem weary, worn down. My eyes focus on all the brown, dead and dying parts of the garden. Without the sun they seem even sadder. But as geese honk their way overhead, I remember that this is the cycle. Without death there can be no birth. All the brown will become food for the new life. And even before then, it serves as shelter for insects and other creatures. Let the imagination see what life there is here. All things have a purpose.
It is so warm I had to open the French doors whilst I did my recorded therapeutic movement class. I was expecting a lot of rain today but having a lie in seems to have got us past that.
The starlings are having a good natter in the ash tree. Lots of sonic sounds and what sounds like strangled ducks.
It is windy, unlike yesterday, but the birds seem very content. We had a nice walk in the woods and said hello to a friendly horse.
I think I’ll keep it short again today. I’m tired and it’s time to collapse in front of the TV with my knitting.
There’s a woodpigeon on the lawn. It’s the first in a long while I’ve seen on the ground in the garden. There must be something interesting by the compost bin as he’s having a good peck around, head bobbing back and forth.
It is very warm today, and wet, but the rain has stopped apart from the odd persistent stabbing drop. I am sitting on the step of the French doors again, not afraid to let the air into the house it is so mild.
My walk included a quick hello to the lonely horse. It was only quick because he didn’t want to chat today. Ok for a quick nose rub but then he turned his back on me. He did, however, turn round to greet my collie friend. They seem to have reached a gentle understanding of almost nose touches through the fence. It is very sweet to see.
There are some birds doing rapid Morse code overhead in the ash tree. I think it is jackdaws but I’m not sure if they make that sound. It doesn’t look like starlings from this angle but I could be wrong. I wish I could speak bird, but then which bird would I speak?
We have snow! My first thought is how much Bobby would have loved today. Being a Tibetan Terrier he was built for snow. It’s a year this week since he died which makes it sadder. I walked a brisk hour’s walk to the Post Office and tried to imagine he was running around behind me, sniffing and kicking up the snow. It’s not the same without him and that present moment joy he lived in.
Usually the snow makes things more peaceful, less cars out for a start. Only we were woken about 6:45am by our neighbour attempting to get his BMW turned round and away. It must have taken him several goes over half an hour at least. Most cars would be annoying but being turbo-charged it is of course really noisy, so the day did not start peacefully.
I remembered to pour hot water on the trays of frozen water for the wildlife. The woodpigeons were out as always, plus a jackdaw. The fields were alive with huge groups of birds, possibly starlings. Not much seems to deter them.
It was a lovely walk. The snow still deep and white mostly, not yet trodden into a brown mush. I hope Bobby has snow where he is and that he has his ‘snow paws’ on.
I have managed to sit in a tiny window of sunshine coming down the side of our house. It’s such a gloriously frosty sunny day it seemed silly to sit in the shade, even though I topped up my Vitamin D on my walk. It’s the sort of perfect winter’s day that makes me want more winter. Though by nightfall my mind is changed.
I’ve been watching a tiny Blue Tit preening at the top of a spindly Plum tree. I was going to cut the tree and its neighbours back this year but the birds love the height. There’s even a nest at the top of next door Elder. The trees don’t really interfere with anything and the neighbour on that side probably appreciates their bedroom windows being screened so I have decided to let the trees be for a while longer.
The air is so pure and the freshness of it fills my nostrils like a big sniff of Olbas Oil, without the eye-watering thankfully. On our walk my collie friend spent a long time sniffing. The frost accentuates the smells I believe, I’m not sure why. [Note: I could look it up but I haven’t yet!]
There’s lots of clicking and tweeting and squawking in the trees. Much nicer to listen to than the guy doing work on a neighbouring property.
Suddenly it goes quiet except for a warning call and I look up to see a Red Kite floating against the pure blue sky. I would have thought there’d be more alarm calls but perhaps it is best not to draw attention to yourself but stay quiet and let others take the risk.
The birds are in a frenzy of activity and chattering today. So many different types occupying the trees and air around me. I think I even saw a pair of Yellowhammers or Greenfinches up in the Pine tree as a little flash of yellowy-green bobbed from branch to branch. Are they communicating with other types? Is Blackbird speaking to the Great Tits below? The Starlings to the Collared Dove? Are they singing with relief because the first proper frost, and colder day, of the season has lifted? Or are they saying thank the gods winter is finally here, we can get back on track? I wish I knew. Meanwhile I just enjoy their activities and the cold air of a winter’s sunny day.
Ah lovely, a Robin has appeared in the Pine in full view and has started its Morse code call. Even from a distance I could see the little feathered rotund chest vibrating with the sound. My brother is called Robin so they’ve always had a significance for me, plus who doesn’t love their cheeky, nosy, sociable ways. The Great Tits are out in force too. Otherwise it’s actually quite quiet in the garden today compared to previous days. It is still still but colder and grey.
Before, I managed to visit the sheep via my easy walk and I had a moment with a couple of them over the fence. As they chewed and looked at me, they were so thoughtful looking. I’d say almost in a meditative state but of course any quick movement from me and they would have run. One had tall ears like a rabbit. I just wanted to give their big woolly bodies a hug. Sheep are very underestimated and abused because of their peacefulness. Seeing lambs is always a very bittersweet experience. I hope these sheep live a long and healthy life.
I am in a lot of pain today. I had a wonderful massage yesterday when I wasn’t in pain, and then did a Zoom call last night where I spent too much time leaning forwards, undoing all the benefit. The spiky mist-dropped blackthorn looks like something my upper body has been on the receiving end of.
Do trees feel pain when they are bent in ways they didn’t intend to be? Or are they more adaptable? I know other animals do, though those who farm, eat and persecute them often seem to pretend that they don’t. Does a plant dying from lack of water feel pain? Maybe it is a form of pain but not in the way we know, like tree communication.
There are lots of flitting Great Tits in the Pine to distract me from the implications of my thoughts. I love the way they dart about so lightly, busy but in what looks like a ‘busy doing nothing just because it makes them happy’ way. Lots of birds calls and song all around today of different volumes, tones and structures. Are there any more noisy creatures than birds, except for humans of course?
I can hear something scratch walking on the shed roof. It sounds huge but will likely be tiny.
I’ve found the squirrels, even though winter has definitely started. They just aren’t here but they are in my massage therapist’s garden – 5 minutes’ walk from here – and the trees on my walks. I guess we aren’t a favoured location. I feel slightly sad about that.
Quick garden sit today as I’m just back from a massage and it’s quite cold outside. I’m glad I’m here though as there is a beautiful blue marbled sky and the starlings have set up camp in the Ash. They are serenading the air with a wonderful range of squeaks, clicks and sirens. Unfortunately a couple of jackdaws have just upset the music with their squeaky bicycle call. They’ve moved in next to the starlings and I wonder how much notice they take of each other. From what I can see, very little.
Below on the bottom branches there have been two woodies sitting quietly, easy to miss as their plumage blends in with the greying bark. And the Great Tits have been flitting back and forth across the garden. Miniature reflections of the birds above.
I could sit and listen to the starlings all afternoon but it is time to go inside now. Hopefully they’ll be back tomorrow.
And Then There Were Stories 