Listen - there he is - singing now from the hawthorn at the edge of the wood; ‘chiff-chaff, chiff-chaff, chiff‘, the thin notes hanging in the air - the arrival of Spring ...
cold easterly the double notes of a chiffchaff
Along the river bank under the boughs, cows graze placidly; a chiffchaff calls ...
By a Brook in Winter - A fresh fall of snow overnight. I walk in a winter landscape: the green fields mantled white; the blackish branches of willow and ash, edged white, starkly outlined, against the morning light; mirrored in the dark brown-grey of the brook; the distant woods a purple haze against the blue-grey snow clouds above. My footsteps the only sound.
a lull between cars
through the gap in the curtains
filigree wildness
@Dru_Marland @CallMeMoNow Love the poem. During lockdown the goats on the Great Orme had the freedom of Llandudno wandering the streets at will. Now the tourists are back they’ve found it too brash for their liking so have (socially) distanced themselves back to the quieter rocky outcrops.
#Siskin are still occasionally visiting the garden feeders. The fledgling #Magpie are almost fully grown. And today also saw the first fledgling #GreatSpottedWoodpecker at the feeders being fed by Dad.
A warm summer’s evening ...
yellowhammer—
singing for his supper
bread no cheese
#yellowhammer #haiku #EnidBlyton
