Listening, thinking of nothing, simply living in the sound of the night, the world seems more alive; the dusky green of field and hedge a monochrome greyish-silver in the pale light, the telegraph poles stark black throwing spooky shadows across the fields. A Barn Owl hunting along the edge of the wood - ghostly white. A Curlew calls. All is quiet - silver-washed tranquility.
Welcome to my Blog – a celebration of birds, mostly – in art and anecdote, poetry and prose – part memoir, part anthology, part nature writing, with biographical snippets about favourite artists. Follow me as I ramble through the year writing about the birds I see – share your own encounters with birds, or tell me about your patch … More
2019 / 85 Grey and damp, “little in the way of sunshine”. 8°C. Wind 3-4 NE As soon as I step out of the car, a large noisy flock of around 200 Jackdaws comes over the main road and across the east clearfell, heading West to wherever the food is good this morning. Two or […]
The Falcon and the Gleam. The rain and wind has flattened the strip of long, uncultivated grass on the awkward corner of an arable field. A vole runs from my feet. Last night, a barn owl hunted here. I only heard it’s urgent ppsshhhht as it quartered the field, but two days earlier, I glimpsed […]
A Guest Post by Clive Bennett ‘See—the hawk, after going nearly out of sight, has swept round, and passes again at no great distance; this is a common habit of his kind, to beat round in wide circles. As the breeze strikes him aslant his course he seems to fly for a short time partly […]
This high pressure’s enough to make your eyes pop. The wind’s in the North and the sky’s come over crisp and bare as a baby’s iris. In twenty years of watching and waiting, I’ve managed to glean a single piece of wisdom, and it’s dear to me because I learned it for myself. Whisper it, […]
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